


it starts with beaches and boys and booze

by connorsmarkus (nnivanfields)



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Artist Markus, Blowjobs, Comedy, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Long Distance Relationships, M/M, Photographer Connor, long-ish work, probably going to add more, socially awkward Connor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:27:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 36,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23132425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nnivanfields/pseuds/connorsmarkus
Summary: Connor and his best friend Chloe are an amateur reporting team, and they're looking for their big break. When they think they've finally gotten it, the man they're interviewing turns out to be the worst kind of person. What starts out as a beautiful young man posing as Connor's boyfriend to get the man off his back soon proves to be something far more interesting.
Relationships: Connor/Markus (Detroit: Become Human)
Comments: 46
Kudos: 148





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> a request from the lovely mirainablackhart! it's a (sort of) long distance relationship au with plenty of fluff and angst and humor along the way. i'm having a lot of fun with this, so i hope y'all enjoy it too!

“So, Mister Shields—”

“—Please, call me Jarrick.”

“Right, Jarrick. This is your second foray into the _Mills of Madness_ series, correct?”

“That’s right. I’ve mostly stuck to films with more…romantic intent—”

“—down here, Jarrick—”

“—and while this one comes with a love interest, the fantasy element pretty well overpowers that. Not that I’m all that upset about it.”

“Look at the camera, please.”

In Connor’s honest opinion, Chloe is being a damned saint right now. While he’s set to take pictures during the interview, she’s actually the one asking questions, and the famous movie star they’re here to interview has his mind entirely elsewhere. Much to Connor’s chagrin, it’s on _him_. There’s a camera crew there filming the entire interview, but he keeps glancing over at Connor, and he keeps lilting his words and hinting and making innuendos so shamelessly that Connor almost can’t stand it.

And he knows that Chloe is aggravated because not only is her interview going to wind up being a total flop because this guy can’t get his head in the game, but he can’t stop making eyes at Connor, and he and Chloe happen to be best friends.

Connor is taking pictures from about Chloe’s three o’clock, so he can see the way her eyebrow is furrowed with wrought nerves. Instantly, he wishes he could take over so that she could get herself a break.

The good news is that the interview measures just about all the contact both Connor and Chloe have to have with the guy, and that after today, he’s off to start filming and won’t be at the venue any longer. After spending several moments in the interview with what Connor has only decided is the least tolerable human on the planet, he has a feeling he and Chloe were given the extra couple of days at the resort as an apology for being given such a job.

It also makes so much more sense now why other reporters didn’t take this one. Connor and Chloe are still working their way up the ranks, and as a result, they’re pretty green about the whole process. They’d been none the wiser about the potential of one Jarrick Shields being officially the most aggravating, entitled, gross, selfish celebrity out there, and here they are now, having to put up with him for lack of a better term.

He’s still giving Connor goo-goo eyes, even as Chloe lilts out a very frustrated, “alright, I think we’re done here!” and closes her notebook. As she stands up, Shields does the exact same thing and makes his way up to her.

“It’s been a pleasure, Miss Kamski,” he closes, extending a hand out to her. Chloe looks the polar opposite of interested in shaking his hand yet again, but she does so nonetheless.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” she grunts blandly, eager to release his hand until she sees that he’s now moving in on Connor.

“You as well, Mister Stern,” Shields greets, but rather than extending a hand out, he takes one of Connor’s into his own and holds it in his palm. He does this really gross thing where he runs his thumb over the top of Connor’s hand and stares down at it.

“ _Don’t_ you have a plane to catch?” Chloe barks through gritted teeth as she extricates Connor from the hold and promptly stands before him. “Movie filming and all that.”

“I’ve got a few hours on me,” Shields responds around a shrug, to which Connor can literally feel Chloe’s rage building.

“Then go have a few drinks at the bar,” she retorts, visibly irritated. “We’ve got work to do.”

Getting away from the man is as simple as that for the moment, and it’s a breath of fresh air. Don’t get Connor wrong—Shields’ gaydar was on-point in knowing that Connor’s into men, and he himself is relatively attractive, but his forward nature and the fact that he was literally dripping with overconfidence had been a quick turn-off for the young photographer.

On top of that, Connor is with his _best friend_. He definitely does not hook up with random strangers (even famous ones) when his intent is to enjoy the beach with Chloe and maybe get a few margaritas in the process.

“What kind of name is _Jarrick_ , anyway?” Chloe questions as she and Connor head down the hallway toward their hotel room. “Sounds like something that would pop up in one of those _Ridiculous white people names_ articles you find when you’re high and just randomly typing things in on Google.”

Connor genuinely laughs. Chloe’s level of passion for the situation is sweet, and she’s also making a good point.

“It definitely makes him come off as _exactly_ how smug he really is,” Connor responds. “Thanks for batting him off of me earlier.”

Chloe shrugs. “What’re friends for? Besides, I know you’d do the same if it were me he were all-but sexually harassing.”

“Please,” Connor scoffs. “You’ve got more class than me, I’ll give you that. I’d have probably gotten arrested socking him in the face. You, on the other hand, have this magical way about you where you can tell them to piss off without actually saying it.”

“Uncle Elijah taught me that,” she reminisces with a warm smile. “Kill ‘em with kindness.”

“You’re going to have to teach me that one soon,” Connor says as he unlocks the door. It swings open, and he finds there’s a piece of paper on the ground. He already has an idea of what it is, and judging by the fake gagging coming from Chloe, she does too.

Sure enough, Connor opens up the slip on the ground and finds himself staring at none other than Jarrick Shields’ phone number and a little note about his availability in the future. He promptly balls the paper up in his fist and makes his way to the kitchenette trash, dropping it in there.

“Can we go to the beach?” Connor decides to question, his expression riddled with exasperation.

\--- --- --- --- ---

Connor is a relatively body-conscious person. He’s never been crazy about walking around shirtless, let alone in swim trunks at the beach. But he aches to get out and dip his toes into the water, so he compromises by way of wearing a nice pair of knee-length trunks and keeping his white button-up on.

It’s not like he thinks he’s unattractive or anything. He’s just _that_ guy, you know? The one who burns like he’s suddenly underneath a magnifying glass, peels, and doesn’t carry so much as a hint of a tan after the fact. His skin has always been doomed to be a near-ghastly pale color, and as a result, even Chloe doesn’t complain when she sees he hasn’t left himself utterly bare for the public to see.

“Good,” she teases as they’re about to head out the door, “don’t give Mister Shields any room for the imagination.”

Connor just gives her a playful shove as they leave.

The resort they’re staying at is extremely private. The only reason Connor and Chloe had gotten access to it was because the company they work for had supplied it (probably as a generous thank-you for putting up with someone they knew was going to be incorrigible). Either way, the beach isn’t crowded with tourists. There are people there, sure, but it’s not a struggle to find a place to sit, and unlike your typical beach, there are deck chairs and umbrellas already laid out for people to use at their leisure.

Chloe immediately takes up one of them, flagging down a staff member for a margarita. Connor laughs as she flashes the guy ID, and then starts toward the water. He’s been itching to dip his feet in all damned day.

This time of year, it’s not as hot as it could be in South Florida. Connor wouldn’t know by experience since his entire upbringing has taken place in Detroit, but he knows for certain that if he’d chosen the summer season to be down here, he’d probably be burning up right now, even in a white shirt. Right now, the water has just a little bit of a twinge of cold to it—enough to make Connor retract his foot for a split second—which contrasts starkly with the mid-eighty-degree weather.

Connor doesn’t plan on full-on taking a swim, though. He just wants to admire the water. It’s crystal clear, to the point that he can see the sand and the tiny shells beneath. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen water so pure, and especially not in the Midwest. Lake water is much more murky and gray-green. What he’s looking at right now is the stuff of daydreams.

He drops down into a sitting position right at the edge of the tide with his feet just within the line of the water. It’s entertaining to watch it wax forward and wane backward, carrying sand with it in ways that nearly pulls Connor’s feet further down into it. In fact, it’s relaxing. Nature is relaxing.

Connor reaches out and plays with the wet sand with his fingers. The sand is fine, even in wet clumps. It feels so much different than he’d expected.

They get a day and a half of this. A day and a half of the beach and the resort and alcohol. A day and a half away from Detroit and Amanda and everything else at home. Connor thinks he needs the break, and judging by how eagerly Chloe is sipping at her margarita beneath her fancy umbrella, Connor gets the feeling that she too needs it. He smiles a little to himself.

“You’re going to get sucked into the water if you let the tide carry you like that.”

Connor’s esophagus suddenly feels shorter at the sound of that voice. Fighting back a grimace, he turns his head to acknowledge none other than Jarrick Shields standing next to him. Good god, can’t a guy catch a hint?

Connor immediately moves to stand up, with the obvious intention of getting away from a much-too-friendly celebrity who probably thinks he’s entitled to what and whoever he wants, but said celebrity reaches out and catches his forearm.

“Careful. Don’t fall, now.”

Connor pulls his arm free from Jarrick’s grip and wrinkles his nose at him. “I’m fine. It’s not like I can drown at this depth.”

“You can drown in a teaspoon of water, Mister Stern.”

Ugh. This dude probably thinks he’s being all kinds of sexy right now or something. Connor is quite honestly not feeling any of it. Frankly, he wishes the guy would just hurry up and get on his plane and get the hell out of the general vicinity of this resort.

“I’m…pretty sure I’ll be fine,” Connor responds, taking a step back.

Jarrick doesn’t move to close the distance between himself and Connor, but his next words make it obvious he’s still not catching the hint. “Do you maybe want to go grab a drink before I fly out? My suite’s got a bar in it and everyth—”

“—Babe!” An unfamiliar voice is followed by a hand clapped onto Connor’s shoulder, and when he glances over to acknowledge the voice, he finds himself staring into a pair of vibrant eyes, one blue and one green, on a freckled face with a smile that displays perfect damned teeth. The man touching Connor’s shoulder right now is so beautiful it hurts to look at him, and quite honestly, he can’t stop staring. “There you are!”

He’s just about to open his mouth and question what’s going on when those eyes glance quickly to the right and then back at him. Connor follows the gaze to see Chloe watching, and he instantly knows what’s going on.

“Yeah, uh, sorry,” Connor responds, flashing the other man a nervous smile. “I got distracted by the, uh, the water, you know? It’s—”

“—Pretty, right?” The man agrees. “I told you you’d like it here, babe. Anyway, the others are looking for us.” Said man glances to Jarrick and mocks surprise. “You’re Jarrick Shields! Cool! Enjoy your flight back!” He then takes Connor’s wrist and guides him back toward Chloe.

As Connor is being led back to his friend, he glances over his shoulder at the celebrity who had been getting far too comfortable with him, and he sees the look of realization on the man’s face. While Connor has no idea who this gentleman who had just saved him is, he’s not exactly mad that he’s had to play boyfriend to the dude in order to escape Shields.

The man releases his hand once it’s just himself and Connor and Chloe.

“I literally watched him set his big wolf eyes on you,” Chloe groans in disgust. “And this guy happened to be around, so I enlisted in his help.” She flashes the man a smile and claps him on the shoulder. “Thanks, Markus.”

“Markus?” Connor glances at the man a little sheepishly, before he nods his head and sticks a hand out awkwardly to shake. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Connor.”

The aforementioned Markus eagerly takes Connor’s hand and gives it a firm shake, before he returns both his own hands to his hips. “Had no idea Jarrick Shields was that gross of a person. Sorry you had to find out the hard way. In any case, it really is nice to meet you too.”

Markus is _beautiful_. So beautiful, in fact, that Connor really has no idea how to talk to him. He’s not stupid—he knows that he doesn’t have to have a certain way to talk to anyone, but Connor’s strong suit has never really been getting to know new people. He can take pictures of them and talk them into a good light or pose for photography purposes, but if he’s being social solely for the sake of being social, that’s where everything starts to crumble. He’s never been good at it.

“Yeah, same…”

But it isn’t like he doesn’t want to get to know the guy. Hell, this dude had basically pretended to date Connor in order to get some leech of a guy off his back, and Connor doesn’t even know whether he swings that way.

He reminds himself in his own thoughts that it doesn’t matter, because he and Chloe are only here for a few days, so this guy will just have to be let go just like any other good fish that happens to live a thousand miles away.

“Where are you guys from, anyway?” Markus suddenly questions, his expression the very example of curiosity. Connor feels almost a little small underneath his eagerness. He’s very obviously the polar opposite of Connor, in that he’s not afraid to talk to people whatsoever.

“Detroit,” Chloe responds eagerly. Thankfully for Connor, she’s just as extroverted as Markus seems to be. She crosses her arms over her chest and looks around. “We’re here on a gig. I’m a reporter, and Connor here is my partner-in-crime who also doubles as a photographer.”

“By that,” Connor interjects, “she means I only do photography. You wouldn’t want me to interview you—that’s not my calling.” A nervous laugh follows his words, and internally, so does more embarrassment. What the hell kind of response even _was_ that? Connor is genuinely so bad at it.

“But he’s a damn good photographer,” Chloe decides to add, shooting Connor something of a pout. He knows she doesn’t like that he discredits himself so much, and she always makes it obvious by turning her blue eyes to him in almost scolding. She’s ridiculously good at the silent scold, honestly. Connor feels smaller just by looking at her that way. “You should see his portfolio.”

“I wouldn’t mind if he had it available,” Markus responds, shooting Connor something of a reassuring smile. Social cues aren’t Connor’s strong suit, but he can tell in looking at Markus that those words are as much a way of telling him it’s okay to relax around him as they are genuine curiosity to know more about his photography. He feels a little warmer looking into that gaze. “In the meantime, why don’t you guys come hang out with my friends and I? I promise you, the margaritas taste just as good underneath our umbrella as they do under yours.”

Connor hesitates, before he lets out a nervous laugh. “I could go for a margarita at this point.”

Chloe outright laughs. “That’s the spirit!”

\--- --- --- --- ---

As it turns out, Markus’ friends are just as friendly and open-minded as Markus is. North comes off initially as a little abrasive, but Connor quickly learns that it’s just a part of how she is. She’s actually extremely funny, and among the rest of them, she’s the first one Connor relaxes around. Josh and Simon are both friendly and eager to get to know Connor and Chloe, and Connor quickly learns that the former is a bartender who has more than a few different drink suggestions to offer them, and by the end of a five-minute conversation, Chloe has already made plans for them to get together and have a few drinks tomorrow night.

Which is a whole other thing. Apparently, Markus and his friends are all on a vacation as well, with the intention of getting away from their own home city and spending some time together. They divulge the fact that they live on the east coast, but not Florida, so the water is different but the beach life is something they’re very familiar with. It makes Connor feel a little out of place until North promises to break him in by the time his and Chloe’s weekend is up.

Connor can tell in watching the way Markus and his friends interact that they’ve got about the same dynamic as Connor and Chloe do. They’ve probably been friends all their lives as children and through high school, and they probably endured college together. They’re likely inseparable, but they also give off the vibe that they enjoy making new friends. They have more than just embraced Connor and Chloe into their group, even if it’s just for the weekend.

Connor isn’t the best at social situations, so it comes as a big relief to him that he’s fallen so naturally into conversation with them.

“So you guys are still growing, then?” Simon questions, sitting back in his own beach chair. “How long have you been partnered together?”

“We’ve been friends all our lives,” Chloe explains, flashing Connor a warm smile, “and when we went to college, we doubted we’d be able to work together, so it’s kind of a miracle that we’re partners right now. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Yeah, that’s incredible,” Markus agrees nearby, sitting at the foot of Simon’s chair. “Most friends don’t get that lucky. I’m happy for the two of you. Assuming one of you aren’t always getting sexually harassed by clients, how are the gigs normally?”

Connor laughs nervously, scrubbing at the back of his neck with his hand. “We’ve gotten pretty small gigs most times. Getting to interview Jarrick Shields was a once in a lifetime kind of thing, and it could give us the signal boost we really need.”

“So you took it knowing he was a piece of dog shit,” North theorizes nearby, but Connor quickly shakes his head.

“We didn’t know he was like that, no. Looking back, we should have suspected there was a reason nobody else in the company wanted to take on the task.”

“On top of that,” Chloe continues, “I’m pretty sure they bribed us with the weekend vacation as a formality. Shame that he’s a jackass, because he sure is pretty…”

Markus laughs a little, before he turns his attention to Connor. “How are you holding up, anyway? He was _really_ pushy.”

Connor laughs nervously. “I’m alright. He’s gone, so I don’t have to deal with him all weekend.”

“Good!” Josh joins in. “Then that means you can deal with us! I was serious about having drinks tomorrow night. So what do you guys say? Want to meet us out here again tomorrow afternoon? Say…two?”

Chloe and Connor exchange glances briefly, before they turn to regard the other group of friends. “That sounds good to us,” Chloe responds with a shrug. “In the meantime, now that neither of us are sick to our stomachs, we’re going to go get something to eat.”

“Thank you for helping me out, Markus,” Connor adds in a bit awkwardly as he and Chloe stand up. “You didn’t have to, but you did it anyway.”

Markus shrugs. “It’s no problem. I didn’t see how else a guy like that was going to get the hint.” He flashes Connor a smile that threatens to make his knees weak, and then rests his hands on his hips. “Anyway, we’ll see you guys tomorrow. Enjoy your night!”

“Check out the balcony view of the water at sunset,” North suggests as Connor and Chloe are about to dismiss themselves. “It’s gonna be one of those things you’ll never want to let go of.”

Connor doesn’t doubt that for a second. His camera is sitting in his room somewhere, and he thinks that maybe he’ll take pictures of said sunset as proof. He really _is_ talented with a camera, after all. The sunset would be a great addition to his portfolio.

As he and Chloe make their ways back to the hotel to wash the sand off their bodies, Connor is lost in thought. He can’t quite remove the events of the day from his mind. And now that he’s away from the other group, his mind is on Markus. The one who had feigned being his boyfriend in order to shake off a persistent celebrity jackass. The one with the too-pretty mismatched eyes and the flawless smile, whose hand had found its way onto Connor’s shoulder so naturally that it was almost as if it belonged there.

Connor’s stomach does a backflip at the thought of Markus and Josh inviting them to hang out again the next day. Socially, he’s always been the more awkward type, but Markus just draws something natural out of him. Don’t get him wrong, he was nervous as hell at first, but by the time they’d finished hanging out for a bit, he’d felt as if he had nothing to worry about.

He doesn’t speak clear until he and Chloe get to the hotel. Chloe requests the first shower and Connor just shrugs his shoulders as he makes his way into the room.

Apparently, they’re going to have ‘real’ margaritas tomorrow evening. Josh boasts his bartending skills like he was born to do it, and if he’s half as passionate about it as Connor and Chloe are their own line of work, Connor has a feeling that he’s going to be onto something. He’s looking forward to reuniting with the group and not just enjoying some drinks, but getting to make new friends.

Which is saying a lot, considering this is Connor Stern.

Chloe doesn’t spend long in the shower. She comes out in the middle of shrugging a shirt on. She’s sporting short shorts and knee-length socks. She runs a brush through her hair as she speaks up. “You’re off in left field today. Got your mind on something in particular?”

Connor just shrugs. “It’s been an interesting day, is all.”

“I’ll say,” Chloe agrees. “But at the very least, you’re done with Captain Jackass. And his prettier stand-in—the guy who saved your life—is now asking for your company, so relax.”

Connor doesn’t respond, and Chloe gasps dramatically, launching her brush right past him and onto one of the two beds. “I knew it! You’re already getting all in your feelings about him!” She doesn’t stop even as Connor gapes at her. “In your defense, he really _is_ pretty. Those freckles are downright sinful.”

“Don’t get too excited about it,” Connor responds around a scoff as he gathers up some clothes, himself. “We don’t live anywhere near each other.”

“Well, I wasn’t suggesting you marry the guy,” Chloe snorts, “I think you’re doing that to yourself already.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Connor retorts as he heads into the bathroom and turns on the shower.

“ _You’re_ ridiculous!” Chloe argues. As Connor steps into the shower, Chloe follows him into the bathroom. He hears her hop up onto the counter, where she’ll undoubtedly sit and talk to him while he washes up. “The point is, he’s a cute boy, and even if you two never speak again after this weekend, you should enjoy your time with him. Trust me, Con, he wants to do the same with you.”

Connor isn’t so sure he believes those words. With Markus’ friendly, warm attitude and his stupidly good looks, he could have anyone on the planet. Connor finds it hard to believe he’d, even for a weekend, find interest in the quiet photographer who hasn’t quite figured out how to socialize properly.

“I suppose we’ll see,” Connor responds after several long seconds of hesitation. “It _is_ really fun talking to him…”

“There you go,” Chloe replies warmly. “Just feel it out for now and go there. In other news, imagine how your mother would be shitting herself right now if she knew that not only is her son finally making it _big_ and getting to stay at a fancy resort, but he’s still a photographer!”

Connor’s mother, one Amanda Stern, has spent the past several years disagreeing fervently with her son’s choice to go into photography. ‘ _That’s not a career, it’s a hobby,’_ she had barked at him even as he went to college for it. Why she still continued to help Connor pay for his education is beyond him, but now that he’s gone on his first real, big job with Chloe, he may be getting somewhere closer to showing her that he’s making enough money to call his dream a career.

At the same time, calling her and telling her he’d been getting sexually harassed all day would just give her another excuse to tell him to leave the field and go into something more solid. Connor loves his mom, but it’s hard to call and talk to her about anything anymore because of her obsession with his future, or what she personally sees as a lack thereof.

“She’ll see one day,” Connor replies, his tone more thoughtful than he’d intended. “Either that, or she’ll get used to it. I’m doing just fine.”

“You sure are,” Chloe praises.

Connor is certain half his self-confidence comes from her. He probably wouldn’t be where he was right now if not for her.

\--- --- --- --- ---

Most of the evening beyond that is spent in the hotel room. Chloe buys them a case of wine coolers and Connor fronts the bill for their sandwiches, while the two of them sit on Chloe’s bed and go through photos and interview footage sent to them by the camera crew. Chloe is beyond frustrated, and for good reason.

Shields really had been absolutely the worst person to interview. Even in the photos Connor had taken, he looks visibly distracted. The interview footage is…not good. There’s no way they’re going to be able to give this to their editing team.

About midway through the third cycle of the footage, Chloe breaks down and decides it’s time to call said editing team. Connor and Chloe have done enough work with this team that they know them by name, so they’re in both their contacts.

As the phone clicks and Tina picks up, Chloe puts her phone on speaker and sets it down. _“Hello, Chloe. How’s the trip going?”_

Chloe groans aloud. “Tina Chen, you did _not_ tell me this man was a big, sexually-harassing _jerk_. Is that why nobody else would take this gig?”

They both hear Tina sigh over the receiver. “ _I’m sorry. He’s hard as hell to deal with. I was so excited that you actually took the job that I forgot to warn y—wait a second…he harassed you?”_

Chloe swallows down a drink of her wine cooler. “He harassed Connor! That’s why I called you, actually—because going through all this footage, I’m not sure any of it’s viable. Most of the shots are him getting distracted eye-sexing my best friend instead of answering his questions. I’m embarrassed and frustrated, and I really don’t think this is gonna look good for either of us.”

_“Okay, okay,”_ Tina replies quickly over her end of the phone. “ _First off, we all know what an interview with him looks like, because he’s just never been any good at them. So if you’re worried about sending that footage over, you can have faith that my team and I will make it look like magic—we’ve done it before. Second, I’m already part of the way through an email to his manager about the sexual harassment. Is Connor okay?”_

“I’m alright,” Connor replies. “He was a jerk, but I’m more worried about how this is gonna reflect on Chloe and I too. This was supposed to be our big break, after all…”

“ _That’s where I come in,_ ” Tina answers, and in her defense, her voice really is confident. Connor feels a little reassured hearing it alone. “ _Think of this as a personal achievement—you two survived an interview with the infamous Jarrick Shields. That’s going to look good as hell on your record, because most of us in the biz known what kind of guy he is. Just enjoy the rest of your vacation, why don’t you?”_

Chloe scoffs. “Alright, will do. We’re counting on you, Tina.”

_“Take pictures of the beach!”_ Tina answers. “ _I’m jealous as hell that I don’t get to enjoy it with you!”_

Chloe hangs up and turns a reluctant sort of smile to Connor. “Well…I dunno about you but that made me feel a fraction of a percent better about this whole thing.”

Connor nods. “Actually, yeah. So long as we don’t lose work because of this guy, I’m content.”

“According to Tina, we won’t,” Chloe muses, sounding a little more relieved by the second. “But still…what a jerk. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Connor nods again. “I’m fine, Chloe. Despite earlier, I’ve had a good day. Thanks for sending Markus to help me out back there.”

Chloe just laughs. “What’re friends for?”

By later that evening, Connor has had enough wine coolers to give him a decent buzz, and Chloe has sent off the interview footage and passed out on her bed. She’s dead to the world, but Connor himself just isn’t ready to sleep. He can’t shut his mind off—never has been able to on trips like this. The hotel is comfortable and Chloe’s presence is a relaxing one, but Connor has always been the last one to fall asleep.

After peering out over the balcony like North had suggested, Connor decides he wants to walk the beach. There’s next to no one outside right now, so it’ll just be himself and the waxing and waning of the tide, and that sounds like the perfect way to wind down so that he can finally get some sleep.

It’s much cooler outside at night, and the ocean breeze almost brings a chill to the air. Connor’s button-up mostly manages to take the bite out of the air, though. It’s almost pitch black this far out, with just the faint glow of the distant resort to show Connor the difference between sand and sea. He walks just a few feet away from the tide, his gaze focused on the water as it washes up, and then promptly backs away seconds later.

This late at night, with no beachgoers around to scream or splash around in the water, the tide is all Connor hears, and he can’t help but find that he’s enamored with it. He hadn’t thought to bring his camera out here, but he decides that tomorrow night, he may come out and take some pictures after he’s done hanging out with Markus and his friends.

“You’re out here late.”

Connor initially thinks he’s hallucinating, because there’s no way he just heard Markus’ voice right after he’d found himself thinking about the guy. Still, he pivots toward the sound.

Markus looks the very picture of a movie love interest. He’s sporting a loose white tee shirt that billows in the wind and does little to hide the obvious tone and muscle of his abdomen. He’s wearing long khaki shorts, and despite how dark it is, Connor can see the blue and green of both his eyes as if it’s the middle of the day. The sight quite honestly takes the breath right from Connor’s lungs.

“I should say the same for you.” Connor’s retort is so natural that even he is shocked by it. He really _is_ a lot more comfortable around Markus than he is most new people he meets. He’s tempted to blame it on the fact that they’d pretended to be dating for a few seconds in order to get Shields off of Connor’s back.

“I needed some quiet,” Markus answers honestly, shrugging his shoulders. Connor waits for him to join him at his side, and the two start walking along the tide together. Markus tucks his hands into his pockets as he keeps speaking. “My friends invited more friends and it turned into a full-on party at our hotel room. Got kind of crazy, so I dipped. What about you?”

Connor laughs breathily. “Chloe got tired from working and fell asleep on me. I got bored, so I came out here. In other words, the polar opposite of your situation.”

Markus returns the laugh. “So you’re implying you need more company?”

Connor’s smile in return is a nervous one. “I may be, if you’re implying you’ll keep me company.” He thinks back to the discussion he and Chloe had had about how he’d been crushing on Markus. Normally, he’d never be able to talk like this around any guy, but Markus just…talking to him is so natural. It really _is_ too bad that they live so far away from one another.

“You don’t seem intent on competing on who can drink the most beer, so I think I can handle you,” Markus replies, smiling Connor’s way.

The tide washes up, and Connor takes a deep breath of the ocean breeze before he speaks up. “Don’t let me fool you. I’ve had two whole wine coolers and the buzz is coming on pretty strong right now.”

“Oh shit,” Markus feigns surprise, “I’m dealing with a straight alcoholic. What am I going to do?”

They both laugh, and it’s genuine, relaxed laughter. Markus makes Connor feel a little like he’s walking on the tide rather than the sand.

“So…what’s Detroit like?” Markus questions, breaking the silence that has followed their laughter.

“It’s…” Connor ponders the question, before he finally speaks up. “It’s fascinating, historically. I’ve lived there my entire life, so I can’t say for certain if the other things about it are any better than the rest of the country, but I like it. It’s not as hot as, say, South Florida, though…” He turns his attention up to Markus. “What about the east coast? That’s where you’re from, right?”

Markus nods. “Virginia Beach, actually. I love it there, but despite the name, I don’t really spend a lot of time out at the oceanfront.” He shrugs his shoulders. “The beach here is prettier, but would you believe me if I told you I’m not really a big fan of the ocean?”

Connor frowns— _genuinely_ frowns. “I would never have guessed. Right now, you’re the very picture of a guy who owns a beach house and goes on walks along the water every single night.”

“What?” Markus laughs again. “Well, no, that’s definitely not me. What I really like is flying.” He turns his gaze up to the sky. “In a different life, I’d be a pilot.”

“Really?” Connor is genuinely surprised. “What _do_ you do in this life?”

Markus pauses briefly, before he shakes his head. “Nothing too crazy. I paint. Everything from commission work to just whatever pops up in my mind.”

“Commission work?” Connor tips his head, confused. “Like murals?”

“Yeah, actually,” Markus replies. “I’ve got a whole underpass painted back home. You’ll have to come see it some day.”

Connor’s stomach does a backflip at the implication behind those words. “The next time I just happen to be in Virginia Beach, I’ll have to come take a look.”

Markus pauses, before his smile broadens and he lets out a sigh. “I’d like that. And maybe you can make it famous by taking pictures of it. What do you do with that, anyway?”

“Mostly interview work,” Connor replies. “I work with Chloe on just about everything, but I do catch myself hopping on my old blog from high school every so often and posting a few things there. I’ll probably do the same thing with that beach view North told me to take a picture of. I need to do that, huh?”

“You haven’t taken a picture of it yet?” Markus looks genuinely shocked.

“We were busy when we got back to the hotel,” Connor admits. “Had to send our footage off to the editing team. Which, by the way, the footage was crap. Jarrick Shields doesn’t know the first thing about how to behave in an interview.” He knows he sounds a little perturbed. “We barely got any direct shots of his face, and all his answers were thickly drenched in innuendo.”

“So he’s more gross than just the guy who hits on you at the beach, then,” Markus observes, his own face contorted in a frown. Connor finds that he likes it better when Markus is smiling, but the deep contemplation on his face looks damn good, too.

“Yep, basically.”

“What a waste of talent,” Markus scoffs. “He’s a brilliant actor, but he apparently thinks with something other than his brain outside of his work.”

“And then it ruins _my_ work,” Connor adds. “Jerk.”

“Seconded.”

Connor doesn’t realize how long he’s been out walking with Markus until the other man pulls his phone from his pocket and takes note of the time. They’ve been strolling along the beach, talking, for hours. It’s nearly three in the morning, and if they’re going to hang out again tomorrow, they’re both going to need to get some rest.

They’ve talked about just about everything. Markus spent a good half an hour listening to Connor rave about how he likes the way the ocean breeze feels and smells, and then he himself talked about his first time learning to swim. They discussed food and colors and even the hotel chain they’re staying at. It had felt so utterly natural that Connor had almost lost track of location altogether.

Markus and Connor keep walking alongside one another clear until they reach the hotel lobby, where Markus finally dismisses himself. Not before thanking Connor for letting him hang around, of course.

“I’m looking forward to seeing you again tomorrow,” he tells Connor as they go their separate ways, and Connor genuinely feels warm at those words. His stomach does yet another backflip.

When he gets back to his hotel room, Chloe is still fast asleep. He washes the sand off his feet and then crawls into his own bed. His mind is utterly wired and he genuinely doesn’t think he can fall asleep. But then, he turns his gaze up to the sky and remembers what Markus said about wanting to be a pilot. A single jet stream catches his eyes through the gap in the curtains, and suddenly, he’s so tired he feels like he couldn’t stay awake if he tried.

Markus could be a pilot if he wanted, right? Connor already has a starting point to their next conversation figured out by the time sleep finally takes over.

\--- --- --- --- ---

He immediately regrets sleeping with his face to the gap in those curtains when he wakes up to a beam of sunlight glaring right into his eyes in the morning. He can faintly hear Chloe’s voice rousing him too, so he turns over and pulls the blankets over his head.

“I had a long night…let me sleep.” It wasn’t a bad thing, but it’s the perfect excuse to convince Chloe to let him have another couple of hours before he has to get up.

“Not a chance, Connor,” Chloe retorts, wrenching the blanket off of Connor’s head. “I ordered us breakfast, and on top of that, Tina pulled an all-nighter! You’ve got to see what she came up with.”

Wait…what? Connor doesn’t think enough time has possibly passed to edit footage like what he and Chloe had been forced to send over. There’s no way she’s already done making that garbage fire of an interview actually look like something usable.

“I know she’s good at what she does, but I doubt it’s really finished…” Connor mumbles as he finally sits up. Chloe is sitting next to him in her pajamas, her laptop already out and open. She’s got a videoclip attachment to an email open and ready to play.

“Tina’s a freaking miracle worker—that’s all I’m gonna say.” She clicks the play button and sits back, giving Connor complete access to the screen.

Sure enough, the interview looks nothing like the sham Connor had expected it to be. Tina Chen is a master of editing, apparently, because she’s somehow managed to escape all the frustrating parts where Shields would flirt or glance up at Connor and make it look like he has an ounce of professionalism in his body. The interview looks like…a genuine one. In fact, Connor sort of lights up at the sight.

It’s not nearly as long as they’d hoped it would be, but every question Chloe asked has an answer. It’s just minus all the times she’d had to ask for him to focus on her or answer the question. It’s…quite honestly incredible. And to add the cherry on top, it doesn’t even look like Tina had to trim any of the files down. She’s just that good.

“I’m going to pretend that’s actually how the interview went,” Connor comments almost excitedly, as he hops off the bed and starts for the bathroom to brush his teeth, “and that’s going to be cause for celebration when we go try out Josh’s mad bartending skills today.”

Chloe straight up giggles. “I knew that would wake you up!”

She’s right. Connor just needed some good news. He definitely wasn’t looking forward to returning to Detroit and getting ‘you tried’ looks from all their fellow reporters. And now, with the help of one amazing Tina Chen who deserves the biggest, fanciest, shiniest award, maybe Connor and Chloe will stand a chance at being able to get their hands on better gigs from here on out. Connor isn’t sure whether or not to say ‘screw Jarrick Shields’ or thank him.

In any case, he can barely stomach his breakfast, he’s in such a good mood. He manages to eat some eggs and toast, and then starts rooting through his clothes to find something to wear to this evening’s drinking night. Yeah, they’re meeting at the beach, but Connor has a feeling none of them are going to spend their time out there once they’re reunited. Markus had expressed the previous night that he wasn’t crazy about being out at the beach, and Connor gets the feeling his friends are relatively the same about it.

Besides, Josh was so excited about showing them what proper drinks tasted like that they’ll probably go straight for their hotel room.

Speaking of that previous night, Chloe does manage to get some answers from Connor about what happened. She’d been under the impression that he too had fallen asleep when she had, so it’s understandable that she doesn’t get why he would consider the previous night a long one. But when he tells her that he went for a walk on the beach and that Markus showed up, she’s even more excited than he is.

Why she doesn’t just have a crush on Markus herself is beyond Connor, but then again, maybe she sees something between the two of them and doesn’t want to get in the way…

Wait, no. Connor can’t think like that. If he does that, then he’s going to get all downtrodden when the two of them have to go their separate ways.

Of course, Connor Stern was going to go and get attracted to someone he absolutely couldn’t have. He supposes after this it’s back to being socially awkward and okay with the perpetual loneliness he’s lived in for so long.

By the time afternoon rolls along, Connor and Chloe are buzzing with excitement. They don’t have any more work to do, and while they have to fly back to Detroit in the morning, they’re going to make the best of their last remaining night of vacation. They’re going to enjoy the South Florida hotel site to its fullest now that they don’t have to dwell on any interviews gone wrong or bat away any persistent celebrities.

Markus and his friends look just as happy to see them. North all-but throws her arms around Connor in a hug, and Simon and Josh are quick to regale them on all the drink mixes they bought in preparation for tonight. Apparently, it’s not just margaritas on the menu, but oddly enough, Connor isn’t all that upset about it. How long has it been since he let loose and got drunk with anyone, anyway? And no, he’s not referring to wine coolers.

As expected, they’re immediately directed up to Markus and his friends’ hotel room. It turns out that the four of them got a couple of suites together, and Connor doesn’t even allow himself to try and imagine how much it cost to get the place. He also doesn’t want to think about how his new friends may be utterly _loaded_ , because his vacation ends tomorrow and he doesn’t even get to be _halfway_ loaded.

In any case, the suite is only two bedrooms, but North explains as Connor and Chloe look about the area that she and Simon stay in the suite next door. Their balcony is much larger and peers directly over the beach, which Connor finds himself beyond enamored with. He was smart enough to bring his camera along this time, so he picks it up from where it hangs around his shoulder and snaps a couple of pictures.

“Gorgeous, isn’t it?” North questions next to him as he lowers his camera. He’s still mesmerized by the sight, but he nods his head anyway and turns a calm smile toward North. “Just wait until the sun sets. Then you’re really going to want to break out that camera.”

The balcony sits in a bay-window-esque structure where it juts out in a round arc from the sliding doors. It sits off to the side of the living area, and Connor has a feeling that after a few drinks, he’s going to come out here and enjoy the buzz. He’s suddenly very grateful that Josh decided to show him what real cocktails taste like.

The group enjoys a sandwich a piece before Josh decides to get started on drinks. It’s just past four in the afternoon by this time, so Connor supposes it isn’t _too_ early to partake. He requests a margarita, and Josh upsells him a strawberry one, to which he accepts. Chloe quickly jumps in on that one, too, to which Josh laughs.

The drink is…ridiculously good. Connor sips from the rim of the glass, and the bite of the salt combined with the sweetness of the strawberry is damn near perfect. He hums pleasantly, before he swallows the beverage and glances up at his new friend. “You should really have a career in this.”

“I work as a bartender back home,” Josh responds. “At the most popular gay bar in town.”

“I’d like to say he’s exaggerating just for the sake of knocking him down a few pegs,” North adds nonchalantly, “but it really is pretty damn popular. Lines all the way out the door almost until closing time.”

Connor raises an eyebrow. “I bet the tips are good, then.”

Josh just smiles. “They surely are.”

Connor doesn’t typically drink. He’ll have a few wine coolers with Chloe from time to time, but he’s usually quick to opt out of nights like this one. However, Josh makes so many different good cocktails that he can’t bring himself to stay away from the stuff. He starts out trying a few different flavors of margarita, and the next thing he knows, he’s ordering amaretto sours. The drinks are so sweet that Connor doesn’t realize he’s getting drunk until he’s already there.

Nor does he realize that the sun is setting until North flags him over. Despite being inebriated, Connor still takes a damn good series of pictures, before he decides he wants to linger out here. The sun is almost completely set by the time someone else comes out and breaks the silence.

“You really like this view, huh?” Markus’ voice questions as he moves to lean against the balcony, his gaze turned out to the horizon. He smells faintly of whiskey, so Connor knows he’s probably a little drunk, himself.

Connor simply shrugs. “I’m just trying to soak it up while I can. I have to head back to Detroit tomorrow morning, so…” He drifts off there, but soon draws his attention back to Markus. “I can’t believe you don’t like this stuff.” At the look of confusion Markus gives him, he rushes to explain. “The sand, the sea…beaches, you know? This view is insane.”

Markus smiles. “It really is _something_. It’s not the views I don’t like, though.”

Connor cocks his head. “Then what don’t you like?”

Markus just laughs. “Sometimes, it’s crazy during tourist season, so I could easily complain about that. But actually, the sand drives me up the wall. It gets _everywhere_ , Connor.”

Connor laughs in response. “I’ve heard that!”

“And if you don’t wash the saltwater off before it dries on you, it burns like hell.”

“I’ve heard that, too.”

“Also, we’re swimming in a toilet for fish.”

Connor just stares at Markus for a few moments, before he bursts out into laughter. “Okay, so you have a lot of reasons.”

“I’m passionate,” Markus teases in response, “what can I say?”

“Well,” Connor turns his gaze back down, still smiling, “you seemed to do alright last night when we were walking together.”

Markus shrugs. “That’s because we weren’t swimming.”

“Maybe,” Connor replies, before he draws his gaze back up to Markus once more. “Why’d you pick a beach vacation in South Florida, then?”

It surprises him how quickly Markus gestures behind him, to the living area where the party is still very much alive and can be heard through the glass door dividing it from the balcony. “They did, actually. They won me over when they told me they wanted to see the water. You know, the closer you get to the Equator, the more beautiful it gets.”

“I can understand that,” Connor agrees. “Lakes are murky. This water is the opposite. Also, the ocean just has a smell to it I can’t quite get enough of.”

Markus scoffs. “It sounds like you’re the one who needs to be owning a beach house and going on long walks every night.”

“Don’t tempt me!” Connor teases back in response. “I’d do it if I could!”

The sun has long-since descended over the horizon by now, but Connor can still make out the sheepish look on Markus’ face as he speaks up again.

“I know this seems odd after all this…beach-shaming, but do you want to go on another walk with me?”

Connor smiles lopsidedly at those words. “Beach-shaming.”

“Was that not what I was doing?”

“It was definitely what you were doing.” Connor moves to stand upright. “But I’d love another walk.”

This is the stuff of romance novels. The unlikely couple meets on a beachside vacation and bonds over the sound of the ocean spray, with their hair and clothes billowing in the wind. They take long walks on the shore and everything about the world starts to make sense.

Except, in the novel, they would move mountains to stay together. The last day of vacation would approach soon enough and they’d find some way to get their famed beach house on the water and live happily ever after.

Connor dramatically fantasizes about it while they walk out toward the shore yet again. While he knows such a thing is light years away, it’s a nice mental picture to have with the ocean literally within walking distance. He doesn’t dare voice any of this to Markus.

“So…You like Josh’s drinks then?” Markus questions, most likely just trying to find a way to break the silence. Connor finds he appreciates it.

“I don’t drink a lot,” Connor answers honestly, “but I think that I like his drinks more than the ones that were being served out here yesterday. He’s good at what he does.”

“I think so too,” Markus agrees, before he tucks his hands into his pockets. “I think he’s going to miss showing off to you guys when you leave tomorrow, though. And I think North especially is going to miss you. She took a shining to you.”

“I took a shining to her, too,” Connor admits warmly, his hands folded over his chest as he walks. “She’s really funny. I also like how much she and Simon argue, because you can tell they actually love the hell out of each other.”

Markus scoffs. “We’re an unusual family.” He shrugs his shoulders and turns his gaze down to Connor. “But hey…at risk of sounding really forward, I’m going to miss you guys too when you leave. It hasn’t really been much, but I’ve enjoyed the time we’ve spent together.”

Connor just smiles in response. “I have, too. If I’m ever in Virginia Beach, I’ll look for that mural of yours—”

This really is the stuff of movies, Connor observes, as he chooses that particular moment to forget the learned concept of balance and his leg catches behind the other. He doubles forward, stretching his hands out in preparation to catch himself, but something stops him.

Markus’ arm is warm, and also toned. Connor feels it over his chest, as well as a strong grip holding him by the shoulder. For several milliseconds, Connor pictures what it might be like to be all snuggled up in that hold. For, y’know, longer than the several seconds it normally takes for someone to regain their balance from a trip.

“You okay?” Markus questions, and Connor notices as he peers up with no small amount of embarrassment that Markus is laughing at him. He lets his eyes fall shut and releases a sigh.

“I am,” he manages before he rights himself and keeps walking. “Definitely had too much to drink, I believe.”

Markus’ gaze doesn’t leave him. “Do I need to walk you back to your room?”

Connor laughs softly. “Maybe.” He doesn’t exactly want to stop walking with Markus, but he also doesn’t want to be too hungover before tomorrow’s flight out. He’s really in for it already, what with being several dozens of thousands of feet in the air after a night of heavy drinking.

That in mind, as Markus places a hand on the small of his back and guides him back toward the hotel, he goes along for the ride. It takes everything he has in him not to lean over and slide an arm around Markus’ waist in response.

When they finally reach the hotel, Connor directs Markus to his floor and stops at the door. Behind it, that room is empty, and Connor already feels a little lonely at the thought. Markus pulls him out of his thoughts though, gesturing down to the camera still hanging around his neck.

“Take a picture,” he says simply, to which Connor cocks an eyebrow. “Of us. You know, for memory’s sake.”

Connor swears he feels his heart jump out of his throat. He fumbles for his camera, his cheeks suddenly flushing bright red. “You sure?”

“Of course I am,” Markus replies around a wide grin. “Unless you plan on posting it on your high school blog…then, I may be swayed to think otherwise.”

Connor can’t help but scoff there, before he moves to stand alongside Markus and raises the camera up. Markus throws an arm around his shoulders, and they both smile widely. Connor snaps a couple of pictures, and then lowers the camera once more.

“Thanks for that, Markus.”

Markus just shrugs. “Thank you, actually. It’s gonna suck to not be able to see you after tomorrow.” He reaches out and gives Connor’s shoulder a squeeze. “Seriously…you’ve got to come to Virginia Beach one time, okay?”

As he disappears down the hall, Connor feels a little sick. It’s not a bad sick, though. It’s a giddy, pleasant sick. The kind that makes him wish he had stayed around to experience more of it.

However, it’s time for him to get some rest. So, very reluctantly, he unlocks the door to his room and shuffles inside.

\--- --- --- --- ---

Goodbyes _suck_.

And Connor didn’t even think to take Markus’ phone number down. Or North’s. Or Josh or Simon’s.

He’s pouting about it while the plane taxis its way out to takeoff, his gaze focused out the window almost irritably. Next to him, Chloe has just downed a handful of ibuprofen and is nursing her own hangover. This is going to be a very long flight, and neither of them seem all that compelled to take it.

The pilot announces over the speaker system that they’re second in line for takeoff, so they’ll be in the air soon, and Chloe groans aloud.

“I’m never drinking again,” she whines, before she turns and slumps against Connor. Connor turns his head to regard her and lets out a sigh, himself. “You had a lot last night, didn’t you?”

“Too much, I think,” Chloe replies, shaking her head against Connor’s shoulder. “Definitely more than you, considering you went back early. North was practically losing her mind about how Markus walked you back. She went on and on about how cute the two of you were walking in the sand…which, by the way, we could see from the balcony. Nice trip, Connor.”

“Ugh…” Connor glares out the window again as the plane shifts forward and the pilot instructs the attendants to prepare for liftoff. “Of course I’d be the one to trip in front of him. I was able to blame it on the alcohol, but jeez…”

“Oh, I’m sure he has plenty of people tripping in front of him, honestly.” Chloe laughs, but it dies off into a groan, and her next words are spoken weakly. “I mean, have you _seen_ the guy? He practically belongs in a museum.” Her grip on the armrest becomes tight. Connor recalls briefly that she hates taking off, so he reaches a hand out and takes hers into his own.

“Plus, he’s famous by descent.”

Connor cocks an eyebrow at her as the plane jolts forward and picks up speed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Duh, Con…he’s Carl Manfred’s son!”

The plane steals away the shocked exclamation that escapes Connor’s lips as it leaves the ground, and the horror he suddenly feels is lost in the sky.

For the past two days, Connor has all-but flirted with the son of a very famous artist, and the entire time, he had no idea. He couldn’t possibly get any more embarrassed. Suddenly, the picture he’d taken the previous night feels more like visiting someone at a convention than taking a picture with a good friend.

Don’t even get Connor _started_ on the whole pretend boyfriends part, either.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to skip right away to the next branch of this story for fear of making it feel rushed, so this chapter is a bit filler-y, but riddled with Connor and Chloe being the best of best friends. I hope y'all enjoy it regardless!

For the briefest of moments, Connor completely and utterly disassociates from the world—he finds himself in Fantasy Land, where nothing actually matters and things can just happen the way they happen and everything is A-okay. In Fantasy Land, Connor’s brain tells him that the pilot of their plane is Markus, and that he is most certainly _not_ the son of a famous artist. In fantasy land, Markus is secretly messaging Connor to tell him that they should meet up when the plane lands. Hell, Connor lets his mind run rampant in Fantasy Land for long enough that he actually gets to see Markus stroll out of the cockpit and down the aisle and directly to him.

Fantasy Markus is just as pretty as Reality Markus, and he looks _damned_ good in a pilot uniform. Connor doesn’t have to try and decide what’s ideal to say to him, either. He just moves in, takes Connor’s hand, and—

“Connor?”

When Connor comes back to the present, it’s to Chloe gaping at him. They’re thousands of feet above ground level now, and the pressure is getting to him somewhat. He swallows down a lump of anxiety, clearing his ears a little in the process, and Chloe’s voice becomes less muffled. She frowns at him, crossing her arms.

“I should have known you’d react that way,” she scolds halfheartedly. “What’s the big deal, anyway? You got along just fine with the guy before you found out he had a reputation.”

Connor doesn’t think he has a good way of explaining that to Chloe, and it’s mostly because she’s right. He didn’t have any trouble getting to know Markus or any of his friends. In fact, he had gelled with them better than he usually gels with _anyone_. But the instant Chloe brings up his fame, Connor is scared of him all over again.

“Let me answer for you,” Chloe keeps going, and Connor already knows by the tone in her voice that she’s about to hit the nail on the head. “You’re suddenly realizing that there are probably people crawling all over him everywhere he goes and you’re all caught up thinking adding yourself in will be that one single straw that breaks the camel’s back and overwhelms him. On top of that, you suddenly don’t think you stand a chance.”

Connor legitimately feels small beneath the severity of her gaze. Chloe knows she’s right, and Connor cannot begin to disagree with her. She’s absolutely, beyond the slightest shadow of a doubt, more well-versed in Connor’s mental processes than Connor himself is, so she’s just laid it all out.

“Well?” Chloe demands, cocking an eyebrow at him.

Connor’s best response is a half-assed shrug. “It’s not like it makes a difference, anyway. He lives a thousand miles away and it’s not like we exchanged phone numbers or anything.”

“I refuse to accept that answer,” Chloe retorts, and while Connor sees mostly irritability in her expression, he also knows that look of determination when he sees it. It’s the same look she’s given him countless times, like when they’d first decided that they were going to work together, or on their first assignment.

Connor himself doesn’t believe that he’s ever going to run into Markus again, but when Chloe gets like this, curiosity gets the best of him and he can’t help but wonder if she can actually make something crazy like that happen.

For now, he just focuses his gaze back out the window and grunts in response to her words.

\--- --- --- --- ---

“What do you _mean_ , our flight’s delayed?”

Chloe isn’t actually arguing with anyone. She and Connor have worked enough customer service jobs to know that you simply just _don’t_ argue with your cashier or clerk because they don’t make the rules they’re having to enforce. No, she’s actually arguing with the big display they’re staring up at in the airport at Atlanta, where they’ve connected.

In the airport’s defense, it’s raining cats and dogs outside. It’s storming like hell, and the thunder sometimes rattles the windows in the airport, so taking off or landing here right now is probably a challenge. The plane they’re connecting to is bogged down with the same weather conditions at another airport, which has the delay on their flight undetermined, though one staff member has told them it could be six hours.

The problem is that Chloe is still nursing a hangover, and she’s the type of person who loses patience when she’s not feeling well. They’re both tired, and flying has only exacerbated that situation, and they’d had dinner plans with Tina for when they’d arrived back in Detroit, but it doesn’t look like that’s going to be happening.

“This airport has one of those places where you can take a nap if you need one…” Connor observes as he looks at a sign advertising just that.

Chloe scoffs. “For sixty dollars an hour. Hard pass. Let’s just find a store so I can take something for my head.”

The two of them find a shop not far from their terminal, where Connor buys a bag of cashews and Chloe grabs a bottle of water and some naproxen. While she’s making her purchase, Connor finds himself staring at a magazine rack. It’s riddled with tabloids, but one of the less-trashy magazines features a picture of none other than Carl Manfred on the cover. It’s a well-taken photo, where Carl stares off through a window. The view looks over his shoulder, but everyone knows what Carl Manfred looks like, and Connor recognizes him instantly.

He picks up the magazine and thumbs through it for a few moments, seeking out the page where the interview is. It’s a pretty standard article, really. Interviewers are asking questions about his inspirations and what his life outside of his art is like. He mentions his age, and he talks briefly about his sons. Connor smiles a little at reading the mention of Markus’ name. At the end of the article, it’s noted that Carl will be attending a convention in a few weeks.

“That’s perfect!” Chloe squeals, before she snatches the magazine and jogs back to the counter to pay for it. Connor finds himself wondering how long she’s been reading over his shoulder.

Wait…why in the hell does she care so much about this article?

Connor encounters a moment of panic when he realizes what’s on Chloe’s mind, and as they head back toward their terminal, he’s hot on her heels, swiping at the magazine. Chloe is quick to move it out of his way every time.

“Do you know how _impossible_ what you’re thinking about doing is going to be!?”

Chloe just laughs. For someone who has a hangover headache, she sure cheers up fast. She holds the magazine in the air off to one side to prevent Connor from getting it, and when Connor shifts to said side, she moves it the other way. “And what is it I’m thinking about doing, Connor?”

“You’re going to try and get us to that convention in hopes that Markus is there!” Connor retorts irritably. “First off all, that’s about as inconsiderate as you can get, since Carl’s the one going. And while we’re on that track, there’s no guarantee Markus is going to be there, so it’s going to be a very rude, very selfish waste of our money to go there!”

Chloe rolls up the magazine and bops Connor atop the head with it. They both stop walking once they’re in a waiting area not far from their terminal. She points the still-rolled-up magazine in Connor’s face, her blue eyes narrowed in scolding. “You need to calm down,” she tells him. “For starters, three weeks is too short notice for me to pull some big grand gesture like that. Second, I happen to _like_ Carl Manfred’s art, so I just wanted this magazine.”

“That’s bullshit,” Connor argues, to which Chloe scoffs.

“How else do you think I knew Markus was his son?” Chloe questions.

Connor scowls at her all over again, snatching the magazine from her hand successfully this time and bopping her over the head with it in return. “Speaking of which, _you should have told me he was famous_!”

“Oh, right,” Chloe retorts, “And watch you go from actually getting along with another member of the human species to forgetting how to sound out your words? It’s a no from me, Connor.”

Connor knows he looks like he’s about to blow a gasket, but it dissipates instantly when Chloe smiles up at him. She reaches out and gives his upper arm a gentle squeeze.

“Listen, Con…you had a really good time.” Her smile grows a little bit pitiful. “Some guy was making it really hard for you to have fun, and then I spotted Markus and asked for his help and your weekend got better. I didn’t want to take that away from you.”

Connor knows she’s right, and with that in mind, he relaxes completely. Brown eyes shift to the nearby display, where their flight is still showing up as delayed indefinitely. He plops down into the comfortable waiting area scenery. “I know you meant well. I’m sorry.”

Chloe sits down next to him and just smiles. “It’s okay.” She leans over, resting her head on his shoulder as the two make themselves comfortable. The next thing Connor knows, Chloe is fast asleep against him. He doesn’t know how she can power down so quickly, but he decides that they’ve got several hours on their hands to recoup, and he’s going to do just that. With some effort, he gets into a position where he can fall asleep too.

\--- --- --- --- ---

Connor and Chloe share an apartment, but when they arrive back into Detroit well into the late night hours, Kara calls Chloe up and invites her to hang out. Knowing neither of them are going into work in the morning, Chloe decides to accept her invite, leaving Connor to his own devices at home.

It’s still storming here in Detroit. Apparently, it’s supposed to keep doing that until well into the morning. Connor likes the storms when he’s not waiting in airports for them to pass, so he immediately opens up his bedroom curtains and takes a seat next to the windowsill on the little desk chair he keeps in his room. He pulls his knees up and leans against it.

Nights like this bring him back to his childhood. Before middle school, and before Connor realized a lot about who he was. When he was still a child taking in the whole world around him like a sponge. On nights like this, he was never afraid of storms. The thunder would wake him up, but not because it was scary. If anything, Connor had liked it when it would wake him up.

His mother’s home is large, and as a kid, it looked even more so. Connor would crawl out of bed during these storms and pad his way across the house to the sun room. Just outside of the sun room sat a tall, rose-laden lattice wall, and when the lightning would flash, it would paint the shapes of that wall and those roses on the wall behind Connor’s form where he stood in the sun room.

He would watch it clear until the storm passed, or until Amanda would find him in the room and usher him back to bed. Some nights, she wouldn’t send him away at all. Instead, she would stand there and talk about it to him. Tell him how in love with nature she was, and how beautiful the images it painted were.

How she hadn’t approved of Connor going into photography was beyond him. But the point still stands…he misses her. Here’s the thing: he’s perpetually angry with her for not being supportive of him and his choices, but he has good memories that he’ll forever hold onto about her.

Forgetting the time briefly, Connor pulls out his phone and dials Amanda’s number. It rings three times before he hears the ‘click’ of her picking up on the other end. Instantly, he feels a little guilty for having called at this time, because his mother quite literally sounds like she just woke up.

“Connor, it’s two in the morning…” She mutters, though she doesn’t sound all that angry. Connor figures that’s to be expected—he doesn’t call her often, so she probably still welcomes calls, even in the middle of the night. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Connor replies, leaning against the window as he watches the storm. “I was just letting you know I made it back to Detroit, is all…”

“That couldn’t have waited until morning?” Amanda questions, perhaps a little bit miffed at this point.

“Sorry, yeah, it probably could have…” Connor sighs. “I just…it’s been a while since I talked to you last, and I missed you. Couldn’t call you on the plane, so…”

There’s a long pause over the other end of the phone, before Amanda speaks up again. “Right…your big interview. How’d that go?” Amanda spares no expense when it comes to making it obvious when she’s not happy about something, and her tone bears every possible ounce it can hold of lack of interest in whether Connor got his big break or not. Asking him about it is just her way of being his mom about it.

Connor thinks that maybe he wants to vent to her about Shields and how gross and inappropriate he had been, and he also thinks that he wants to tell her about the friendly guy who had effectively saved him from said inappropriate, gross man. He wants to _gush_ to her, but he can practically hear her telling him that this is why she never wanted him to go into photography in the first place. Which isn’t fair, because Amanda doesn’t dislike his interest in photography out of protection—she just doesn’t think it’s a smart business decision.

But Connor doesn’t want to hate his job, because people who hate their jobs tend to hate their lives. He wishes Amanda could understand that a little better.

He favors the idea of not getting her on a tangent, especially at two in the morning when she’s not in as good a mood as she could be in. Another long sigh escapes him, and he feigns delight as he speaks up. “It was great. Chloe and I had a really good time. The interview’s probably going to be up sooner than later.”

Another long pause, in which Connor feels his stomach knot up in discomfort. “I’m glad it went well, then. Was that all you needed?”

Ugh…why does Amanda have to be so succinct? She’s so blunt sometimes that it physically aches. Are other parents this frustratingly one-track-minded?

“…I guess so, yeah. Just hadn’t talked to you in a while, was all.” Connor shakes his head. “Goodnight, Mom.”

“Goodnight, Connor. Get some rest.”

Connor ends the call and just lets his phone fall from his hand. It bounces off the edge of his seat and drops onto the carpet, landing with the screen up and his contacts menu glowing from the backlight. He doesn’t bother picking it up, and instead turns his focus back out the window.

Perhaps it’s selfish to think that on these conversations alone, his mother doesn’t care all that much about him. He did call her in the middle of the night, but he hadn’t given her the answer she’d wanted about how the interview had gone, and she’d made a point to cut him off by then. Connor knows Amanda loves him, but what is he supposed to do? Would she truly be happier with him if he willingly stopped doing the things he loves?

Suddenly, he wishes he could talk to Chloe again.

Or Markus.

He only knew the guy for a couple of days, but he somehow knows that if he were to sit down and vent everything off his shoulders to Markus, the man would listen, and willingly so. Chances are, he’d have advice to give, too. And even if he didn’t, he’d be there.

Markus is more than just the son of a famous person. And of course, it’s in the middle of the night, when Connor is left to his own devices, that he has to acknowledge that. The thought of conversing with him is still scary knowing just what kind of following he likely has, but Markus isn’t his fame.

Not that it matters much, since Connor can’t very well get into touch with him.

Either way, he shrugs the thought off and pushes himself out of the chair, heading into the living room. He turns the television on and takes a seat. _Hot Tub Time Machine_ is playing. It’s a favorite of Connor’s, and he can practically recite it word-for-word, so it’s a nice distraction. His mind is wide awake, so it’s not like he’s going to bed any time soon.

He wonders if Markus likes this movie. Chloe hates it, but she can recite it right along with Connor. It would probably be something North got a kick out of, too.

These are the thoughts crossing his mind as he splays himself out on his couch, his head on the throw pillow, and he lets the movie take over his mind.

\--- --- --- --- ---

The next handful of days are entirely uneventful. Maybe Connor is just comparing them to the way their weekend had gone, but the weekdays feel empty and boring. Connor and Chloe work alongside Tina to get their interview posted, and then it’s just…hanging around in the office and waiting for a new gig to snatch up. Interviewing Jarrick Shields was supposed to be the foot in the door that would lead to them getting bigger and better jobs, but right now, it feels like they’re getting paid to try and spin pencils for more than half a second atop tables and count the stacks of paper in the printer.

Chloe voices this multiple times, to which Tina tells her every single time that there was no promise taking on the Shields interview was going to get them anywhere different than where they already were. Chloe knew that already, and Connor knows she did, but she doesn’t look any happier about it having been reiterated to her.

The weather is just as crummy as it was the night they flew back. The rain doesn’t seem to want to let up now that they’re back in town. It’s like the general doom and gloom that Connor and Chloe feel upon their return back to Detroit is following them around and wreaking havoc on the entire city.

After yet another grueling, long day at work, Chloe and Connor find themselves in their house, yet again confined inside four walls from the onslaught taking place outside, with a deck of cards placed between them on the couch. They’re hammering away at games of Speed while they try and decide what they’re going to do next.

Connor definitely has the gift of quick thinking. Chloe is good at _critical thinking_ , but Connor beats her when it comes to making split-second decisions. For that reason, he has nearly beaten her at every single round.

“Why don’t we just take our own little vacation?” Chloe asks as she deals out yet another hand following another loss. “Just grab a weekend and go on a cruise or something?”

“On a cruise?” Connor laughs. “Have you ever even been on a boat?”

“Plenty of times!” Chloe retorts. “You forget my uncle is loaded with a capital ‘L’ and invites me to practically everything he does. The dude’s got private yachts all over the place. Mind you, I’ve never been on a _cruise ship_ , but if it’s seasickness you’re trying to give me crap about, you’re not gonna win that one. I’ve got the stomach of an ox.”

Connor scoffs. “That’s not what your hangover told me last weekend.”

“That was beer,” Chloe responds easily enough, “and beer doesn’t count because it can make just about anyone sick.”

Connor just shrugs his shoulders. “That’s not the point, though. I don’t think we should go anywhere. I’ve got this sneaking feeling that something’s going to creep up on us, and if we’re not being patient, we won’t be able to grab it.”

He watches the way Chloe cocks an eyebrow at him, clearly not buying his statement. It costs him the round, honestly, and once he’s finally had another loss, he scoots back and away from the cards, making himself comfortable against the arm of the couch.

“I’m serious, Chloe! We’ve been waiting a week and it’s been radio silence for all this time—something’s got to give.”

Chloe still doesn’t look convinced. “That’s all the reasoning you’ve got?”

Connor shrugs again. “No…it’s a feeling. I’m telling you, we go on this vacation you’re brainstorming and another big chance is going to jump right past us. Tina’s gonna have to hand it off to Gavin or someone, because we’re on vacation, and we’re going to lose yet another chance at our big break.”

Chloe narrows both eyes at him. “…How sure are you of this? Give me a percentage.”

“Uh…” Connor ponders it for a moment. “Sixty-five percent.”

“That’s barely over half!” Chloe doesn’t look even a little impressed as she finishes picking up the cards and slides them back into the box. “But it’s also more than half, and your strange and suddenly-onset intuition is the closest thing to an actual job we’ve had in a week…” She starts counting these options on her fingers, genuinely wrapped up in contemplation. “Ugh…damn it, Connor! I swear to god, if I gave up the chance at a vacation for nothing, I’m kicking your ass.”

Connor just smiles at her. “I can’t promise anything, so I guess I’ll just be ready to take a beating in case.”

But Connor means what he said. He can’t quite put his finger on it, but there’s a feeling building in the pit of his stomach. A nervous sort of trepidation that holds him rooted to Detroit and inspires him to go into work every day. After having his mother shoot him down over the phone earlier in the week, this is a surprisingly good feeling. He wants it so badly that he can taste it, and once Chloe knows he’s right about it, she’s going to want it just as fervently.

It could just be a feeling, and it could mean absolutely nothing, but Connor’s hopes are up. Shields was an absolute disaster to deal with, and he’s aching for something better than that. To be able to claim to be the photographer responsible for the pictures surrounding the interview of someone most people didn’t even get to meet…it was the dream.

Connor doesn’t have a sixth sense or anything like that. But he can also say he’s never quite felt this sure of something before, which has got to mean _something_ , right?

It’s all he can think about while he and Chloe find themselves marathoning documentaries on Netflix. Chloe is plenty absorbed in the show, but Connor’s more staring blankly at the screen, his mind wandering from everything to his sneaking feeling to how their last interview had gone. If this impending one is going to stand a chance at being their big break, is it going to be as frustrating as Shields was? Or are they going to interview someone who actually knows how to act like a human being? If they’re as awful as Shields, what is Connor going to do without Markus to feign dating him in order to save him from the experience?

Is Connor afraid, or is he excited?

He’s practically squirming, so he gets up to see if he can’t prepare himself and Chloe something for dinner. He doesn’t even stop to tell himself how ridiculous getting worked up over a feeling is.

\--- --- --- --- ---

In the end, the weather does Connor in. He finds himself stuck at home for a few days with a pretty strong cold. With enough fever that Chloe and Tina were both insisting he rest for a bit, he’s been confined to his room with nothing but his phone and the Google Books app to keep him company. It’s probably not much different from how things are faring at work, but Connor still finds himself consumed with the sensation of endless boredom. Things had been uneventful for nearly two weeks now, but at the very least, the sun’s out for the first time in forever.

Too bad Connor doesn’t feel well enough to go out and enjoy it. He can at least take comfort in the fact that the light beaming through the curtains into his room is warming and pleasant, and that once his cold has passed, he’ll probably get to go out and take a walk in it. He’s never been a social butterfly, but he does rather enjoy some walks through the city.

For now, though, it’s suffering in his room. He’s about fed up with every app he’s sifted through on his phone, though, so he supposes it’s time to just get some more sleep. He pops a Nyquil against his better judgment, downs some water, and lets himself flop back into bed.

Whoever invented Nyquil is a genius. Connor is frankly too bored to sleep, but the once that pill kicks in, he’s all-but passing out. He’s more than happy to let the sweet embrace of slumber take over him, and with that, he curls up in his bed and lets his body relax.

Until his phone rings.

For a moment, Connor ignores the sound. Whoever it is can wait, honestly. Connor has no intention of so much as reaching for the device on his bedside table right now. So for that reason, he lets it ring until it stops. His eyes fall shut once more.

And his phone rings again.

One brown eye pops open and narrows at the offending instrument, before he snaps a tired hand out, picks his phone up, and jabs at the ‘accept’ button.

“Hello—” He snaps into the receiver, before his best friend’s voice cuts him off.

“Your feeling was right, Connor!” Chloe sounds positively beside herself with excitement. “Your weird sixth sense that came out of nowhere was actually on to something! I’ve never been so thrilled that my best friend is psychic in my whole life!”

Connor scowls at the wall as if Chloe is standing there talking to him from against it. “…I’m not psychic, Chloe. It was just a feeling.”

“No, Con, but you _are_ ,” Chloe answers over the phone, her tone giddy even when she’s not still squealing with excitement. “Because when I get home, we are going to get on a Skype call with our next client, and you’re literally going to _puke_ out of excitement!”

“Chloe,” Connor grunts into the receiver. “First of all, the last thing I want to do is puke. Second, I am not getting on a Skype call like this. This one’s all you.”

Chloe sounds disappointed. “Look, Connor—I’m willing to expose myself to your gross cold germs so you can meet our next client, and when I say this interview is a very important one, I mean it’s probably absolutely vital to our careers. It could be exactly what we need to get on the map.”

Connor groans aloud. “Last thing I want to do is have someone who could get our career on track see me looking like this.”

“You’re being dramatic,” Chloe replies. “You’ve had a few days—you’re a little stuffy, but other than that, you don’t look all that bad. I know you feel like shit and a half because you handle colds about as well as I do, but you’re gonna want to take this call, okay?”

Connor absolutely does not want to take that call, but with the way Chloe is talking, he’s not so sure it’s a good idea to keep refusing. She’s looking out for him, and even if she’s not looking out for him, both their jobs are in the equation here, and it’d be a selfish move for him to refuse to help her out, at the very least.

“Just let me sleep off the Nyquil first, okay?”

Chloe lets out an excited squeal, and Connor swears he hears her jumping up and down into the air. “Good! I’ll see you in a few hours, Con!”

When the call ends, Connor stares at the screen for a long handful of seconds. He doesn’t think Chloe even sounded that excited when they’d learned that they were going to get to interview Jarrick Shields. Just now, she sounded like she’d won the lottery. It fills Connor’s head with curiosity. Are they going to be interviewing the President or something? Then again, Chloe would be more excited about decking the president in the face than actually talking to him.

So not the President…but who?

Wait a second…Connor knows exactly who.

He narrows his eyes at the phone and slams it down on the bedside table, before he grumpily turns over and closes his eyes, letting Nyquil take him under for real this time.

His sleep lasts all of two hours, and when he wakes, he doesn’t feel even slightly rested, but as promised, he gets up whenever the pills have finished working their magic. He forces himself up and into the shower, probably spending too damned long underneath the heat, but it’s soothing on his aching throat and head. When he gets out and gets dressed, he takes a couple of ibuprofen for the headache and then attempts to do something with his hair.

At the very least, Chloe is right. He doesn’t look as sick as he feels. His nose and cheeks are a little red, but it’s nothing compared to how he’d looked on the first couple of days. If he can just try not to start coughing while they’re talking to their guy, things should be okay. Which may not be all that difficult since Connor usually lets Chloe do the talking for the most part. She’s got a special way about her words. She’s just genuinely good with people.

Chloe arrives home just as Connor is finishing up getting ready. He’s not wearing anything too spectacular—the goal was just to not look like he’d been battling a cold for the past few days since Chloe had probably spared their client that detail. He’s wearing a nice blue button-up and he’s got his hair tidied up, and that’s about all that’s important to him.

“Look at you,” Chloe praises, her blue eyes scanning Connor’s form for a few seconds. “You really took the time to get all decked out for our guy, huh?”

Connor just shrugs. “I figured he doesn’t need to know I’ve got a head cold.” Connor still sounds a little stuffy, but he thinks that with some effort (and letting Chloe run her mouth more than he does), he should be able to avoid making that part too heavily known. For now, he gestures to the laptop bag Chloe has slung over her shoulder. “You never did tell me what time we’re talking to this guy.”

“He’s in California right now,” Chloe explains as she lowers her bag onto the coffee table, “so he’s three hours behind us. That makes it…just past three his time, and he wants to meet at five. So…T-minus two hours, Connor. Are you hungry?”

“I could eat,” Connor shrugs his shoulders. “What do you want?”

Chloe scoffs. “Delivery, of course. I’ve been craving Chinese food so badly today…” She places a hand on her stomach, almost making it look like she’s never had a bite of food in her life. Chloe could have easily become an actress if she’d wanted to. Connor admires that about her, because he himself isn’t the most expressive or personable of people.

“Chinese, it is,” Connor replies, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Let me guess…orange chicken with steamed rice and crab rangoons?”

“Make it lemon chicken this time,” Chloe answers as she rifles through her purse and slaps a twenty onto the counter. “Keep the change.”

There’s something about Chinese food delivery that’s just too perfect for words. It always smells so good when it arrives, and Connor can’t think of a single time he’s ever gotten his meal cold from a Chinese restaurant. He’s in the middle of thoroughly enjoying his Mongolian beef when Chloe’s laptop suddenly starts playing the all-too-familiar Skype call tune.

“Shit!” Chloe practically throws her chicken aside, chokes down her bite of food, and dives for a napkin.

“He’s like an hour early!” Connor almost whimpers, setting his own food aside. He’s at Chloe’s side with his face cleaned properly just in time for her to answer the call, and lo and behold, his suspicions about who they were interviewing are one hundred percent correct.

Sitting on the other side of the screen is none other than Carl Manfred. He raises a hand and waves to them, smiling broadly.

“Hi!” Chloe greets excitedly, taking the reins as expected. Connor thanks his lucky stars that she’s always so willing to do so. “You’re early, Mister Manfred.”

“Carl is just fine, thanks,” Carl responds easily, grabbing for his glass of scotch and taking a swig. “My last meeting ran short, and I know how much you were looking forward to getting to speak with me, so I figured I’d give it a shot. Sorry I interrupted your Chinese food.”

Connor and Chloe glance at one another, before gawking back at the screen. They’ve both set their food out of view, after all. Carl, seemingly knowing what their surprise is all about, raises a hand to tap at the corner of his lips.

…oh. Of _course_ Connor would have some white rice stuck to his mouth. He wipes it away shyly, before smiling nervously at the man on the screen. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be.” Carl is laughing somewhat as he responds. “I interrupted your dinner an hour before you were expecting me. Eat your damn Chinese food, I’m not here to judge. Just so long as you’re okay with me staying on the line while you do.”

Connor and Chloe exchange glances, before they both shrug their shoulders. Chloe speaks up.

“I don’t see any problem with it.”

“Good!” Carl’s smile broadens again. “So, Chloe, right?”

“That’s me,” Chloe responds with a grin as she grabs her food once more and polishes off another bite of white rice.

“Good to meet you,” Carl answers. “Your associate…Miss Chen, I believe, reached out and mentioned that you and your partner would like to speak with me.” He glances to Connor. “You’re the partner?”

“I am,” Connor nods his head. “Connor Stern, Sir.”

“Pleasure, Connor,” Carl answers back. “As Miss Chen and I discussed earlier, I’m in California for the next few days, but there’s a convention in a week and a half that you’d like to attend to speak with me, correct?”

Connor shoots Chloe a glance. “You said you weren’t trying to do all that.”

“I’m not,” Chloe replies almost smugly. “I want to speak to Mister Manfred.”

“Pardon?” Carl looks confused, but Connor shakes his head.

“We saw an ad in a magazine about this convention,” Connor rushes to explain, because ‘it’s nothing’ is probably not a good answer right now. “I’d been looking forward to meeting you, but I didn’t want to impose, so I asked Chloe not to reach out.” It isn’t entirely the truth, considering it was Markus Connor had been thinking about, but that’s beside the point at this frame in time.

“The way Miss Chen handled it was no bother at all,” Carl adds in, clearly attempting reassurance. “Now, let me get this straight—the two of you are rookie reporters, am I right?”

“We are, yeah,” Chloe answers, “but don’t let that turn you away from us. We make a really good team—”

“Actually, it doesn’t bother me at all,” Carl responds. “You’re looking for your big break, and you’re tenacious enough to reach out instead of wait for a chance to fall into your lap. I like that, even if it could come off as a little uncaring depending on how you look at it.”

Carl Manfred is quickly shaping up to be an interesting person. He goes on about how he thinks it would be an interesting challenge to take on a couple of rookies in an interview and see how they hold up, and he proceeds to inform them that that doesn’t mean he doubts their capabilities. Further yet, when Chloe mentions that their last interview was with Jarrick Shields, he outright laughs.

“That man is the very embodiment of someone with their junk up their own ass,” Carl responds, looking amused. “I honestly respect the hell out of both of you for being able to put up with him. How’d you do it?”

“Not too well, actually,” Chloe answers, rubbing at the back of her neck. “He had it bad—real bad—for Connor here, and he made it glaringly obvious. Not only did he basically sexually harass my best friend, but he made it extremely difficult to keep any of the shots we got. His answers were heavily distracted and he was just an all-around jerk, but Tina’s got a knack for making the impossible happen, I guess, because she cranked out an actual interview from all that mess.”

Carl raises both eyebrows. “I take it she’ll be the one editing the details to your potential interview with me, then?”

Chloe nods her head. “She’ll be the main one in charge, yeah. But she’s damn good at her job.”

The three of them spend a good hour after that talking, and Connor finds that Carl gives off a very similar aura to the one Markus gave off. He’s friendly and he’s not judgmental. He probably expected something a lot more haughty than the pair who had reached out to him, but he looks impressed with what he sees. That in mind, he eventually caves and tells them that if they can find a way out to the convention in a week and a half, they can interview him one of the evenings he’s there.

Connor can’t contain the smile on his face, and it quite honestly has nothing to do with Markus. Carl hasn’t spent any time during this call specifying that either of his sons are going to be joining him at the convention, after all. But at the same time, Carl really could be the one to help Connor and Chloe get a jump on their careers, and he quite honestly seems to be giving them this interview just for the sake of that.

It probably beats the other reasons he’s interviewed before, Connor supposes.

Either way, he’s no longer mad at Chloe for having called him up, and he’s practically buzzing at the chance to get out of Detroit again.

He spends the evening researching the convention and learns that the reason Carl is attending a comic book convention is that he’s got a cameo appearance in a superhero comic. Connor, propelled by that little piece of knowledge, finds himself spending the entire night dedicated to the task of learning more. He purchases a downloadable copy of the comic Carl is featured in and chuckles when he sees the old man in it.

Beyond that, it’s a snowball effect. Connor grows interested in the story that the comic books take place in, and before he knows it, he’s spent the entire night up reading. Thankfully, this series isn’t as long as some of the more famous comics, so he’s not going to have to dedicate several months to playing catchup, but by the time the sun rises, he has damn near finished the entire thing. Carl’s cameo appearance in the story actually makes more sense now that he’s gotten as far into it as he has, even.

He jumps a little when his bedroom door squeaks open. Chloe is standing in the doorway, rubbing at her eyes with her knuckles. She looks something like a child standing there. When she opens her mouth to speak, it only furthers the appearance.

“I want hashbrowns.”

“I think we have some in the freezer,” Connor replies around a yawn.

“No…I want IHOP hashbrowns,” Chloe argues. “They make them super crispy, and I can mix them with my egg yolks.” She strolls to Connor’s bed, crawling onto the mattress, and lies down next to him. “Go with me to get IHOP hashbrowns, Connor.”

Connor laughs nervously. “Actually, confession time: I stayed up all night reading comic books.”

Chloe pauses, glancing up at him. “You what now?”

“Yeah,” Connor responds, before he pulls out his phone and locates the comic issue he’d bought on his app. He zooms into a panel that features Carl and passes his phone to Chloe. “Turns out this cameo is why we’re visiting famous painter Carl Manfred at a comic book convention. The story’s actually really good.”

Chloe sits bolt upright and turns fierce blue eyes to her friend. “Okay, now, you _really_ have to go with me to get IHOP hashbrowns.”

\--- --- --- --- ---

The convention takes place in St. Louis, and once Tina hears that Connor and Chloe managed to get the greenlight from Carl, she’s able to work her magic, yet again, to get them to their venue free of charge. They’ve earned themselves yet another weekend away from Detroit, with the excitement of an impending interview. Their meeting with Carl isn’t until that Sunday, but they’ve got complimentary tickets to the convention so that they can get something to add to the interview if they find it, and there’s plenty to do here in the city, too.

The Gateway Arch is a good first example. It’s more than just going up to the very tippy top of the Arch, too. There’s a whole museum dedicated to it, and there are gift shops, and there’s even a riverboat you can ride in the water below the Arch.

That’s where Connor and Chloe find themselves in this precise moment. Chloe is very much enjoying a meal aboard the riverboat, while Connor leans up against the window and watches the boat pass along the water. It’s such a leisurely little ride, and everyone aboard the boat is in good spirits, chattering and having a good time.

Connor smiles fondly at that thought, before he pushes away from the window and looks at his friend. “This isn’t exactly a weekend cruise, but it’s got to be close, right?”

Chloe laughs a little, taking a sip of the wine she’s purchased. She turns her gaze to the water and shrugs her shoulders. “I’m pretty sure a cruise ship is a hell of a lot bigger, but I’ll take this until we can actually afford the bigger thing. Besides, this side of the city is beautiful. I could ride this damned boat all day. Which, by the way,” she points a finger at Connor, “means that I’m not susceptible to seasickness, because I feel perfectly fine.”

Connor chuckles along with her. “Right, right. You win that one, Chloe.” He reaches forward and snatches one of her fries, before he turns his own focus back out to the water. “Are you going with me up into the Arch after this?”

Chloe’s next giggle sounds a little nervous. “…Maybe after we check out the museum? I’d like to digest my food before I get up there. I heard the thing _sways_.”

“Well, yeah,” Connor responds matter-of-factly, “it has to in order to stay upright. Everything has a bit of sway to it. Even bridges.”

“That is the polar opposite of reassuring to me!” Chloe argues, genuinely looking disgusted with the idea.

Connor pauses for a moment, before he waves a hand calmly at her. “You know I’m not about to make you go up there if you’re that afraid of it. You can keep riding the riverboat while I go check it out. I just want to get a few shots of the scenery from above, you know?” He raises his camera as if to further his point.

For whatever reason, Chloe suddenly grins from ear to ear. Her blue eyes light up like Connor has never seen before, and her teeth grow more and more visible as her smile broadens. Connor notices just in time for the voice behind him to speak that she’s not looking at him. She’s looking _behind him_.

“I’ll go up there with you.”

Connor swears his heart jumps right out of his chest at the sound of that voice. His body is completely rigid, but in Fantasy Land, he’s an unconscious mess on the table with his pounding heart now sitting on Chloe’s plate.

In reality, he turns and brown eyes snap wide open because standing before him is none other than Markus Fucking Manfred, in all his blue-and-green-eyed glory, smiling widely down at him.

Connor legitimately panics at the sight.

“It’s good to see you again, Connor.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it only took me 20938509273409834908 years to get this posted, but it's up! i hope y'all continue to enjoy!

Connor wholeheartedly believes what Chloe said. Really, he does. He _knows_ Markus is his own person and that his inherited fame doesn’t shape him into his personality. Hell, Markus would probably have been a pompous ass like Shields had been if that had been the case, because his father is really, _really_ famous. And it’s no secret that the two of them bonded, even going so far as to take a goodbye selfie together on that fateful weekend that had ruined Connor’s taste in all men who weren’t Markus.

But in this moment, it’s the absolute best he can do to sit there, pivoted around, and gape at the other man.

He truly hates himself for it. He wants nothing more than to be able to tear his gaze away and not look like a starstruck fanboy, but how in the hell does he go about doing that? He’s beyond words, his mouth hanging open and his eyes wide.

He tries to say something akin to ‘it’s good to see you too, Markus’, but when he opens his mouth, it looks more like he’s choking. He supposes he could play it off as just that if he’d also decided to partake in food like Chloe had, but he’s foodless and also wordless, and basically the human embodiment of embarrassment, and the worst part of it is that Markus gets to witness it as his first greeting since the two of them had last spoken.

Lucky for him, Chloe has got this covered. Connor is so lost in his own head that he’s not ready for the sharp jab of a heel being slammed into his own foot. He jolts visibly, lets out a noise that probably sounds somewhere between a whimper and a moan, and finally stammers out a returned greeting.

“H…Hey, Markus.”

He sees an odd look of contemplation on Markus’ face, and immediately regrets every last one of these past seconds. Not that he’s surprised.

But damn, Markus sure is pretty. Connor had thought the exact same thing when the other man had rescued him on the beach, and now that he’s staring up at him, it’s no different. Markus’ skin is peppered with soft freckles, and despite the vividness of the colors in his eyes, it’s all so pastel and subdued that Connor doesn’t feel overwhelmed by the sight. And to think this guy of all people is the one who had decided he wanted to befriend Connor.

It really _is_ good to see him.

Markus suddenly beams wide, smiling from ear to ear. He steps back, tucking his hands into his pockets, as he gives Connor room to stand up so that they can go enjoy the Arch together. “I must’ve really surprised you. You had no idea I was coming, did you?” Connor notices the way those mismatched eyes suddenly flicker to Chloe, who he rounds on instantly.

“You _knew!_ ” He’s never been more tempted to launch himself across a table than he is right now. Chloe is just smiling sweetly, knowingly, as he continues to enjoy her riverboat meal.

“Not the entire time, no,” she admits as she swallows down a bite of her food and moves to take a drink. “I saw him board the riverboat—it’s a surprise you didn’t, honestly—and I waved him down. Clearly, he wasn’t able to make it until just now.”

Markus just shrugs his shoulders. “I didn’t want to make it look like I was following you around.”

Again, Connor’s surprised by those words. To be quite honest, he figured the shoe would be on the other foot with that one. Markus is famous, and he’s not worried about the coincidence that Connor and Chloe managed to meet him in St. Louis, rather than somewhere where either of them lived?

But that’s not even the important part. The words are spoken casually enough, but Connor can tell by the way Markus’ expression sits a little bit heavy on his soft features that there’s more meaning to it than that. He didn’t want to follow Connor around like Jarrick Shields was. He kept his distance until Chloe had given him the green light to come closer, because he doesn’t want Connor to think he’s got another gross stalker on his hands.

Connor briefly takes a trip to Fantasy Land at that thought, where the reason Markus is being so careful with his approach is because he doesn’t want his _crush_ to come across as _obsession_. In Fantasy Land, Connor doesn’t think he’d mind either way. Fantasy Connor could easily just stand up, hook a finger into one of Markus’ belt loops, and tell him out loud just how happy he is to see him.

But Reality Connor knows better than that. Markus may enjoy having him around, but it’s not like it’s ever going to be any more than that. They live too far away, and St. Louis is just another happy accident.

Does Markus know that Connor and Chloe are going to be interviewing his dad?

“No,” Connor responds nervously, shaking his head, “I’m really happy to see you. Thanks for being so considerate, though.” He stands up finally, even though the riverboat hasn’t quite docked yet. In the distance, the jaunty riverboat tunes can be heard playing. It just feels…more natural to stand up since Markus is doing the same thing?

Connor clearly still hasn’t gotten his people skills in check.

He sees the way Markus smiles despite the awkwardness, though. This man is riddled with reassuring qualities. His very presence alone is something like a bear hug.

“Well?” Markus speaks up, gesturing out one of the windows of the boat. It overlooks the side of the river closest to land, where the riverboat will be coming to a stop eventually. “Are you gonna give me permission to go with you into the Arch, then?”

Oh, right. That part. If Connor wasn’t already crushing on Markus before now, he sure is at this point. Markus’ consent game is on freaking point.

Either way, those words bring a grin to Connor’s lips that surprises even Connor himself. He folds his hands behind his back and grins up at the other man. “You have my permission, Markus.”

\--- --- --- --- ---

Connor can somewhat understand why Chloe didn’t want to board the trolley leading up to the Gateway Arch. Its structure doesn’t allow for the ability to see where you’re going via windows, so the entire ride up _into_ the Arch is blind. You’re in a container that can fit small groups of people, and because the Arch, well, _arches_ , the trolley has to tilt and connect to different tracks on its way up. Connor had fascinated himself about the technology when they’d been about to board, but now that he’s in it, he’s not all that crazy about it, himself.

Markus doesn’t seem to mind it, though. Connor wonders if it’s because he’s been here before. He doesn’t know if being the son of a famous artist has allowed for much travel, but all the movies and books and magazines he’s read that involve rich people seems to imply that.

However, if Markus is as famous just by inheritance as Chloe says he is, wouldn’t it be hard to get around without being stopped by paparazzi and fans left and right? Does he get to get out often and have a good time?

As the ride tips yet again, Connor distracts himself by thinking about how things had gone when they were in Florida. Connor would have never guessed that Markus was the son of anyone famous by the way he and his friends had acted. North and Josh and Simon hadn’t mentioned it even once, and Connor wonders if that’s because they come from the same sort of background, or if they’ve just known him long enough that it doesn’t even matter to them.

Connor can’t speak for Markus because he doesn’t know what the man has been through growing up, but he’s definitely curious. Now’s a good time to start getting to know him, Connor supposes. Whether or not they’re going to be able to keep in touch after this is irrelevant, because Connor is going to work up the courage to give Markus his phone number before they go their separate ways this weekend.

“Have you been up here before?” Connor asks. They’re in the trolley with another couple, but the couple themselves are too wrapped up in giving each other goo-goo eyes and holding hands to really pay any mind to what else is being said. Connor takes some comfort in the fact that they don’t seem to recognize Markus, either.

“Sort of,” Markus responds around a laugh. “When I was eight, I tried to ride up, but I was so scared during this part that I didn’t even want to see what was in the Arch. My parents ended up having to walk me across the Arch and straight to the exit. They didn’t even get pictures.” He shrugs his shoulders. “To be honest with you, I was a little apprehensive to try it again, so I was glad that you agreed to let me tag along with you. Looking back, it’s not as bad as eight-year-old me had thought it was.”

Connor laughs nervously there. “I’m compelled to disagree. Not being able to see how far up I am is making me nervous.”

Markus nods his head in understanding. “I can’t say I blame you. I think I desensitized myself when I was a kid, because I promptly rode up and then right back down again.” His brow suddenly furrows with concern. “Are you alright, though?”

For a moment, Connor thinks he’s still in Fantasy Land. There’s no way any human could be this concerned for him. He eventually reassures himself that he’s not though, because Fantasy Markus would have long since offered to sit beside him instead of across from him to help him through the trauma that is an actually-not-that-traumatizing trolley ride.

“I’m fine,” Connor finally replies, raising both hands. “It’s a little spooky, but I’m not freaking out about it or anything. I can definitely see why Chloe decided against it, though.”

It’s then that the trolley comes to a stop and an automated voice speaks up, instructing them on how to deboard the trolley properly. They’re welcomed out into a small area. It looks like a long, thin room with windows on either side, and the ceiling is somewhat low. Connor immediately feels the way the Arch sways, and in his mind, he can almost picture Chloe doubled over on that alone.

Connor himself makes a beeline for the windows, though, and his mind is blown at the sight. Sure, he could look out the window of a plane and see something similar, but in the Arch, it’s totally different. You’re stationary. Those tiny matchbox-esque vehicles aren’t going anywhere, and the way the trees are peppered along the area, combined with the river and the rest of the scenery…it looks something like a diorama.

He pulls out his camera and takes a few shots, admiring the different angles where he can. It looks like something he could put on the blog he’d mentioned, that some of the Detroit locals might get a kick out of. Kara might want to make a cake out of it. Connor would frankly love to see a diorama cake of the Gateway Arch view.

Connor stands upright to voice his amazement to Markus, but it’s only to find that the other man has gone across to the other side of the Arch and is currently staring in awe down at the river. He looks utterly mesmerized, with one hand placed on the glass, his gaze fixed straight down and his lips hanging just barely open.

Connor can’t stop himself. Maybe it’s a little forward of him, but he mentally swears he won’t use it for anything other than to perhaps look at it later on. He raises his camera and, against his better judgment, snaps a candid photo of Markus Manfred enjoying the view. Either Markus doesn’t notice or he doesn’t care, because long after Connor lowers his camera back down, the other man is still staring through the glass. It’s…entrancing, how mesmerized he is by what he’s seeing.

So much so that Connor’s shy nature takes a back seat in favor of his body feeling drawn to Markus. He moves to stand alongside him, peering down through the glass as well. He stares down at the many tiny shapes that he can see through the window, before he turns his attention up to Markus. “What’s on your mind?” he asks, strangely calm despite his earlier reaction to Markus.

Markus shakes his head just slightly, his expression beyond thoughtful, as he traces his fingers down along the glass and then moves to stand more upright. It’s tough to do so, since the ceilings aren’t very high in the small space. Either way, he turns his attention to Connor.

“It just…reminds me how _small_ we are.”

Connor stares in awe at him for a second, almost expecting some clarification, but Markus doesn’t go into it. Instead, he gestures with his thumb toward the other side of the Arch. The smile on his lips is somewhat of a sad one. “We’re limited to how long we can be up here, so we should probably head back down.”

Right…the flow of traffic and all that…the next trolley is probably due up any minute. Connor sighs and nods his head, before he starts following Markus to the trolley that will take them down to ground level. They clamber in with a gaggle of teenage girls, and the contraption sets itself into motion.

Going by the way the girls keep staring at Markus and giggling, Connor already has a feeling he knows what’s about to happen, and quite frankly, it’s his biggest fear. Selfishly, he thinks that the last thing he needs right now is a reminder that Markus is famous. On the flipside, however, he can tell by the way Markus keeps focusing on his watch or turning the backlight on on his phone that he doesn’t exactly want to partake, either.

But it’s to be expected. Connor all-but cringes when one of the girls speaks up.

“You’re Markus, right?” The girl, a young brunette with her hair tied back into a ponytail, probably no older than fifteen years old, questions. “Markus Manfred?”

It amazes Connor how reflexive Markus is. He peers up from his watch with that smile on his face, and in the calmest voice, states simply, “I am.”

The three girls squeal in unison, before two of them grab at their friend—a girl with dark ringlet curls and braces—and nudge her forward. “This is Harper,” the brunette introduces, smiling broadly. “She _loves_ your dad’s work, and she’s seen a lot of yours, too.”

Despite having gotten caught up squealing like the rest of them, the aforementioned Harper seems to shrink into herself there. Her own face is freckled not unlike Markus’, and the blush forming on her cheeks seems to light up those freckles. “I…I mean, you’re really good,” she confesses. “A-And I don’t mean that in a creepy way!”

Connor and Markus exchange glances, before both men turn their attention to Harper once more. She raises both hands in surrender, waving them almost frantically in the air before her. “It’s just that…okay, umm, where do I start?” A nervous laugh escapes her there. It’s obvious she’s a wreck right now, and Connor finds his own heart aches for her situation. “I had this wh-whole thing planned out in my head about fifty different times when I planned on seeing you at the convention, even not being totally sure you were gonna be there…” Comically, she turns a glare to her friends, who just gesture for her to keep talking. “We didn’t think we’d actually run into you in the Arch.”

Markus laughs easily, shrugging his shoulders. “You’d be surprised the people you run into on any given day, I suppose. I met Bruno Mars once—thought I was going to lose my mind.” A smile forms on his lips. “You don’t _have_ to say anything, but take all the time you need if you want to.”

“I do,” Harper responds, chuckling a bit herself. It’s obvious Markus’ words have helped to soothe some of her anxiety. “So, uh…when I was in middle school, I had this friend—he was a boy, and my parents always thought we were boyfriend and girlfriend, but that’s not true. Anyway, he invited me over one day, and he was showing me around. We went down this long hallway that led to his bedroom, and down that hallway, there was only one picture.” Her expression softens as she turns her attention up to Markus. “It was one of Carl’s works—the very first of his that I’d ever seen—and it was so _abstract_. It looked melancholy, but it also had so much color to it that I couldn’t stop staring.”

The trolley jerks a little, and Harper and the redhead sitting not far from her both squeak, before Harper clears her throat and continues her story. “When his mom saw me standing in the middle of that hallway, she knew it was because I was confused that it was the only painting in the room. She explained to me that it was because it had enough to say that anything else would just make it too crowded.” She turns her gaze back up to Markus. “So I started looking up his work. And I fell in _love_ with it.”

Markus is watching her intently now, genuinely interested in her story. It’s a nice change of pace from his earlier attempt not to engage. Connor himself is waiting to hear what happens next. For how nervous she was, Harper really does have a lot to say. He sort of admires her for being able to get it all out like she is.

“I’ve been following his work ever since that day,” she continues, “so it’s not surprising I’d come across yours too.” She laughs a bit. “Your art styles are so _different_ , but not in a bad way. His are very _telling_ and outspoken and built on subtle expression, while yours are soft and warm and all the words come spilling out like a song when you look at them.” Her eyes are half-lidded, her lips curled upward in a soft smile. “I spent so many years of my school life trying to figure out what I even wanted to do with my future. I know I’m just a freshman in high school, but I don’t have long before I have to make a decision to go to college, or to work at the Burger King down the street, or if I want to take a break first. Growing up is _scary_. But seeing the way you guys express yourselves has given me a nudge in the right direction, I think.”

She grins widely at Markus this time. “I’m definitely no painter, but I’m _really_ good at writing, and if my words can have half the effect on people as your paintings, I think I’ll do just fine.”

It’s clear that Markus isn’t expecting those kinds of words even more than Connor hadn’t been ready for them. Connor realizes with some embarrassment that he’d half-expected this group of teenagers to be drooling over Markus because of how goddamned beautiful he is, when it actually turns out that other people can draw inspiration from him just because of what he makes.

Put simply, it’s possible to differentiate his state of being famous with who he is as a person. This girl has clearly managed to do so. The sight is…humbling. Connor thinks he could learn from it, himself.

Harper seems to notice that everyone has fallen silent, and as the trolley comes to a stop, she’s peering back down at her lap. As the doors open, she speaks up one more time. “I just wanted to say thank you, but I rambled.” A nervous laugh follows her words as she stands up. “Sorry about that.”

As they make their exit, Markus stops her with a gentle clap on the shoulder. He shakes his head, smiling wide. “I hadn’t expected a speech like that—it took up almost the entire ride.” A laugh follows those words. “But to think that you drew so much out of something my father and I made…I think Carl himself would be really happy to know that. It would make his day to hear that.” He seems to ponder for a few seconds, before he speaks up again. “You said you’re going to be at the convention tomorrow?”

The brunette who introduced Harper throws an arm around her shoulders, grinning from ear to ear. “All weekend, we’ll be there!”

Markus nods in response. “Good. I won’t be at the panel with Dad, but please come and see him, and tell him exactly what you told me. He could really use those words right now.”

Connor glances briefly at Markus in response to that statement, wondering if he’s reading too far into it. He immediately reigns himself in, though, as Markus shakes hands with all the girls, and they go their separate ways.

Markus tucks his hands into his pockets, staring straight ahead. “That was nice,” he comments simply, before he turns to face Connor once more. “But look, this whole experience has made me hungry, and I couldn’t help but notice that you didn’t order anything on the riverboat. Dinner is on me, yeah?”

\--- --- --- --- ---

Not surprisingly, Chloe isn’t the slightest bit opposed to letting Connor spend his early evening hours with Markus, even if it means interrupting their exploration of the Arch. He promises her he’ll be back before midnight, and then follows Markus down one of the stone streets that run alongside the Mississippi River. Apparently, there’s a restaurant that had caught Markus’ eye earlier that he wants to try out, and frankly, Connor’s hungry enough to eat anything at this point.

It’s strange, how comforting the silence is. Connor is enjoying his time walking alongside Markus as they head toward their destination, but neither of them feel the need to speak. The area along the river is so pretty that it’s easy to get wrapped up in the sight of it. The streets are made of bricks that time has made uneven, and the nearby water glimmers when the sun hits it just right. Every so often, the riverboat’s horn blows, and other boats out on the water mirror the sound as if they’re communicating. The breeze is gentle, lifting Connor’s jacket every now and then, and it’s got just enough chill to it to turn his cheeks pink.

Markus, on the other hand, almost looks unaffected. He’s sporting a deep blue turtleneck, and he’s got the sleeves pushed up just past his elbows, with his hands tucked into his pockets. Connor takes a very brief foray into Fantasy Land, but only long enough to imagine what it would feel like to be pushed up against him. Leaning against him, or wrapped up in him, he’s probably warm to the touch with that sweater on…

“Here we are,” Markus’ words jolt Connor clean out of his thoughts, and he’s not sure whether he wants to breathe a sigh of relief or lament the fact that he didn’t get to enjoy Fantasy Land a little longer. Either way, Markus directs them into a homey-looking joint with countless portraits and knickknacks peppering the walls and shelves everywhere. They’re greeted almost instantly by a young man—probably in late high school or even his first year of college—who smiles politely up at them immediately. He directs them to a booth that conveniently sits right in front of a window overlooking the stone path they’d just been walking. Connor can see the water from there, and he gets a little lost in the sight all over again.

“I was sure this view was going to be breathtaking,” Markus speaks up there, pulling Connor from his thoughts. When Connor turns his head to regard Markus, the man steals his breath away with another startlingly beautiful image. It’s in the way the natural lighting complements the indoor lighting and bounces on the skin on either side of Markus’ face, and how the light seems to bring even more energy to those mismatched eyes. Connor is compelled to request to take a picture, but he very reluctantly resists the urge to and instead keeps his camera firmly in his lap where it belongs.

“It really _is_ nice,” Connor agrees. “You picked a good place for dinner, Markus.”

“I think so, too,” Markus responds with a smile, finally directing his attention to Connor. “You know where I found it?” When Connor shrugs, he points out the window, toward a series of buildings down along the walkway. The path curves slowly along the river, and there’s a more modern-looking building structured not far from it. “That’s where Dad and I are staying. You can see most of this strip from there, and I spent all of last night just looking at it. This place stood right out to me. Here in a couple of hours, you’ll see why.”

Connor frowns. “In a couple of hours?”

Markus chuckles just a little, before he shrugs his shoulders. “When it gets dark. Will you stay with me until it does so I can show you?”

_Will you stay with me?_

Connor catches himself briefly checking his own mind to make sure he’s not getting caught up yet again in his fantasies, because that line definitely sounds like one that would have come from Fantasy Markus rather than Actual Markus, but when Connor tries to blink away Fantasy Markus, it’s still Actual Markus that’s staring across the table at him, waiting for an answer. Connor’s throat is suddenly very dry.

“Y-Yeah, of course,” he somehow manages to stammer out, before their server arrives. It’s the same eager young kid they’d seen before, and Connor gets the feeling by the time they’re done placing their food and drink orders that the server recognizes Markus, too.

Markus must be able to tell that Connor’s thinking about it too, because when he speaks up, it’s like he’s been piloting Connor’s train of thought. “You should see the attention my dad gets.”

Connor shakes his head, before raising his hands apologetically in the air and facing Markus. “I’m sorry, it’s just—”

“It’s no big deal,” Markus responds calmly. Does he _ever_ get angry about things? “Chloe didn’t have much time to spell it out to me while she was ordering her food on the riverboat, but she made it clear you didn’t know who my dad was until you were flying home from Florida. Frankly, I’m enjoying my time with you _because_ you haven’t been trying to get to know me as a result of my reputation.”

Connor shakes his head. “Are you kidding?” He sighs, and heat immediately rises to his cheeks. “I’m sure you’ve made this deduction already, but I’m not exactly a social butterfly. There’s a reason I went into photography rather than journalism, you know?”

Markus just nods, encouraging Connor to keep going.

“But you’re so _easy_ to talk to. And I’ll be honest, Markus, I was afraid to talk to you after finding out about your dad being Carl Manfred…I really was worried I’d look differently at you, which was petty and stupid in retrospect, but…I’m fine in your company. It’s a little surreal to see how people talk to you, but that whole display with Harper earlier was really sweet, and I’d have never witnessed that if I was hanging out with anyone other than you.”

Markus scoffs softly there, though he doesn’t look offended. Still, Connor rushes to explain.

“Not because I wouldn’t get to see someone admiring a celebrity or anything!” he tries, waving his hands almost frantically. “It’s more like—”

Markus surprises Connor there by bringing both hands up and capturing Connor’s own with them. He holds them in the air above the table, just staring between them at Connor, who instantly calms down.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Connor,” Markus states simply. He’s got Connor’s hands clasped in his own, and while he’s simply just holding them to steady them so that Connor probably doesn’t knock something over in his nervousness, it’s still almost as if they’re holding hands _just_ to do so, and Connor’s heart skips a beat at the thought.

He doesn’t pull his hands away as he speaks. “What I meant was that you meant a lot to that girl, and you heard her out, and you didn’t even try to offer an autograph or anything. You’re just as content being a normal person as we all are, and I like that about you a lot.”

When he finishes speaking, he almost regrets his words because of the weight of them, but Markus doesn’t seem to mind. He does look like he’s attempting to process them pretty thoroughly, but Connor doesn’t think he’s going to get up and take off or anything, which is a comfort in itself.

“You’re sweet, Connor,” Markus responds with a smile, turning his attention to the window once more. “I’m glad that I met you. And speaking of meetings…” He reaches into his pocket, pulling out his phone, and passes it to Connor. When Connor looks down at the screen, he sees that Markus has opened up the contacts app. “I need your digits for when you come to Virginia Beach.”

So, he’s still dead set on that, is he? Connor can’t help but grin a little bit at that, as he types his information down into Markus’ phone and passes the device back. “Fair enough. So you’re going to keep in touch after this weekend, then.”

Markus scoffs, before he starts typing away on his phone. It’s a good fifteen or twenty seconds before Connor feels his own phone vibrate, but Markus speaks up before he can open it up. “Read it later. After you go back to your hotel…okay?”

Connor doesn’t know why that request makes him so nervous, but he also knows that he feels like Markus has a good reason for that. So he obeys, returning his hands back to his lap just in time for the server to arrive with their appetizers.

\--- --- --- --- ---

Not unexpectedly, the food at that restaurant was damn near perfect. Connor leaves pleasantly full, with the deliciousness of warm brownies and ice cream lingering on his tongue. He hasn’t eaten that much in a very long time, so he’s glad when Markus suggests they keep walking to burn some of it off.

By the time they leave the restaurant, the sun has reached the western side of the sky. It probably won’t be much longer than the next hour or so before it starts to set. But they’ve got plenty of strip left to walk. There are stores and bars and restaurants all along the path, from old timey trinket shops to souvenir stores. There are plenty more attractions to visit at the Arch museum too, but Connor is perfectly content just venturing along the walkway where he and Markus have found themselves.

Again, they’re both silent. There’s so much to take in that they’re both looking around everywhere but at one another. A man sits outside of a coffee shop, drumming away on plastic cans. Markus and Connor stop to observe him, very much enjoying the fast-paced rhythm the drummer is pounding out. It’s like he’s several different instruments in one, the way he manages to get different pitches and tunes to come out of just two hands. Connor and Markus both drop bills into the canister next to where he’s performing, before they decide to visit the coffee shop.

They emerge with chai lattes and continue their walk, and it’s only then that Markus speaks up once more.

“How’d your interview blow over?” he questions, and Connor can feel the energy of that mismatched gaze watching him. “You know, with Shields?”

Connor laughs nervously. “Well, I already told you the interview itself was a disaster, right?” When Markus nods, he continues speaking. “Chloe and I both thought we were pretty well screwed after how it had gone, but our editor is a lot more skilled than we thought she was, because she somehow managed to take out all the flirting and beating around the bush—which was a _lot_ —and turn it into something that actually looks like an interview. Chloe and I got a lot of good recognition for our work thanks to her. In fact, it was she who helped us get into contact with your father, actually.”

“Yeah?” Markus looks amused, but Connor just shrugs.

“So…confession time: Chloe really wanted you and I to meet up again—”

“—I deduced that much already, Connor,” Markus replies around a laugh.

Connor feels his cheeks heat up, but keeps speaking anyway. “I honestly thought she’d asked Tina to reach out to Carl because of it, and I got pretty mad at her, but as it turns out, she really admires his work, so Tina got her an interview with him at the convention. I guess it makes sense that she’d recognize you as his son if she’s been a fan for a while, huh?”

Markus just shrugs. “I think it’s sweet. She probably still did it somewhat so that you and I could see each other again, too. It wasn’t just you who was really butthurt that we had to go our separate ways that day, you know?”

Connor tries to look away, but the instant he does, he has another thought. He immediately draws his attention back up to Markus as they walk. “I’ve never seen any of your work. Do you have any you can show off?”

The way Markus smiles in response there bears a weight of mystery to it. Connor isn’t sure what to make of it, until the other man speaks up and surprises him yet again. “I’m kind of embarrassed to.”

“Really?” Connor takes a sip of his latte, frowning. “I mean, there’s no pressure of course, but I’m surprised you’d be embarrassed. From what I’ve been hearing, your art has got to be pretty good.” He figures he could go online and look up some of Markus’ art, but after hearing that response, it almost feels like an invasion of privacy to do so.

“No, I think it’s pretty good myself,” Markus answers easily enough, though he does stop to clear his throat afterward. “It’s just that you have this way about noticing little details. I can see it in the way you stop and admire some things. I express through my art—you may be able to read it like a book. I almost feel vulnerable.”

“But your mural…” Connor remembers aloud, his voice soft and thoughtful. “You were excited for me to see that…”

“I still am,” Markus answers, shaking his head. “That mural was fun and I had a blast making it. But my paintings…those are a little different. Don’t get me wrong—I’m not some dark, brooding soul with a whole lot of baggage, but…well, it’s all in there, you know?”

Connor finds himself staring up at Markus for a long while there, genuinely perplexed. He supposes it makes sense, though. Markus is pleasant and fun, and Connor’s pretty certain that’s as much an inside trait as it is an outside one, but he’s also _human_. Just because he’s part of a wealthy household doesn’t mean everything is perfect. The way Markus speaks about Carl, Connor doubts there’s anything bad going on there, but Markus has his own personal life, and it’s not so crazy to imagine that he’d want to keep at least that much to himself in lieu of how much else everyone knows about him due to his reputation.

He can definitely respect that. That in mind, he smiles up at the other man, reassuring him that he understands. “I think I get it, yeah. You don’t have to show me them, Markus.”

Markus shrugs there. “Maybe one day, okay?”

A little laugh escapes Connor in response. “I’ll accept it, but only because you’re implying that I’m going to get to see more of you.”

Markus falls silent there, and Connor briefly worries that he overstepped, but before he can ask to confirm such a thing, he glances up and notices that the other man is simply smiling. The grin looks like it’s reserved for himself, as if he’s thinking about something that he hasn’t yet decided to voice to Connor. The fact that he’s smiling is reassuring, however, that much is for certain.

Connor steals that moment for himself as well, taking the chance to admire just how nice Markus looks smiling like he is. He’s walking almost directly next to Connor, so Connor gets a profile view of the most contented smile he’s ever seen, and with the way the sunlight plays on it, it’s so damned beautiful that Connor yet again has to resist the urge to pull out his camera and snap another picture.

Which reminds him…

He suddenly feels a little guilty, as he clears his throat and speaks up once more. “So, uh…I need to confess something else to you.”

Markus turns his head, acknowledging Connor’s request with that soft smile still somewhat present on his lips. The look on his face tells Connor that he doesn’t think whatever he’s about to hear is going to be all that upsetting. Hopefully, it won’t.

“I may have snapped a picture of you while we were in the Arch.”

Markus definitely doesn’t look angry. In fact, his expression hasn’t changed at all compared to what it was before Connor had spoken. Connor isn’t sure whether he should be alarmed or relieved, or quite frankly _what_ to expect in the wake of a reaction—or lack thereof—like that.

“I can hear a camera shutter, Connor,” he replies simply, and when his expression _still_ doesn’t change, Connor finds that he’s utterly weak by Markus’ state of calm. “I knew you took a picture. In fact, I was going to ask if you’d show me how it looked before the night was over.”

Connor feels better that Markus had known and not been angry this entire time, but the fact that he’d hidden it and only now confessed is a little embarrassing. He feels heat rise to his cheeks all over again. “Sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I was going to, I promise.”

“I figured you would eventually,” Markus replies. “You’re a photographer, and considering you have yet to put the picture we took together online, I have a feeling you didn’t plan on using this the same way someone with more ulterior motives would have.” He shrugs his shoulders. “I think we passed the point of being just acquaintances on that first night on the beach, you know? You’re not going to offend me that easily as my friend.”

Connor brings his hand to his camera, running his thumb along the plastic on the side. He gazes sheepishly down at it, before Markus speaks up once more.

“But I still want to see it when you can show me.”

“Sorry I didn’t tell you, though,” Connor immediately responds.

Markus waves a hand. “Don’t be. If I hadn’t wanted you to take the picture, I’d have stopped you.” He pauses there, glancing out at the water. It’s understandable, really, because the sun is finally working its way over the horizon. Connor didn’t realize just how much time had passed until now, but considering how his last weekend with Markus had gone, that seems to be the trend with them. They get caught up in conversation, and hours pass by. Time is cruel to them in that it moves so very quickly.

Connor had promised Chloe that he’d be home before midnight, though, and while that had seemed like plenty of time earlier, it doesn’t feel quite that way now. Connor’s crush on Markus is escalating into full-on attraction at an alarming place. That’s not exactly a good thing, considering there will never be a situation wherein the two of them can _actually_ be together.

And Fantasy Land is the only thing telling Connor Markus might like him back, so it’s not like he can count on that.

“Let’s start heading back, yeah?” Markus suggests, motioning back down the path they’ve been walking. Connor assumes he means toward the restaurant. He’d wanted to show him something once it had gotten dark, after all…

The sunset over the river is nice, though, so Connor doesn’t mind the walk back. It’s the exact same street they’d been walking along in the first place, but it’s also somehow different. The riverside along the Mississippi is oddly surreal in that way. It’s almost like there’s an entirely different scene to look at now.

Either way, they’re walking at a casual pace, so by the time they come to a stop outside of the restaurant, the sun has set fully and the lights outside of all the shops are on. The restaurant they’d eaten at is particularly lit up, with bulbs that string across the pathway and attach to a little viewing area. The bulbs are lit up in yellows and greens and blues, and the way they shine on the water and the stone path is mesmerizing. A group of musicians have gathered just outside the doors of the restaurant, and they’re playing a fun, bouncy Zydeco song. People have gathered both to watch the musicians and to dance.

“When I saw this from the hotel last night,” Markus speaks up, still taking in the scenery around him, “I knew I had to see it in person. People just…gathered here and started having fun. The restaurant owner either encourages it or doesn’t care either way. I just had to be a part of it.”

Connor finds he likes the way that the lights play on Markus’ face. They illuminate the freckles on his cheeks and nose in just the right way and add yet another unique twinkle to his already breathtaking eyes. He forces himself to look away for the sake of not getting caught staring, and that’s when he himself hears the sound of a camera shutter. He wheels around, gawking at Markus, who just smiles almost giddily back at him, his cellphone in hand.

“I wanted a picture of you in these lights,” Markus explains before Connor even has to ask. “But if you want to put a more solid reason to it, you can consider it payback for when you snapped a picture of me earlier.” He follows those words up with a playful little wink that damn near makes Connor crumple to his knees.

“…Yeah, okay,” he barely manages to respond. “Fair enough.”

“In any case,” Markus continues while he still has Connor’s attention, “I brought you out here for more than just seeing how cool it looks.” He tucks his phone back into his pocket and then extends his hand out to Connor. “Dance with me, Connor.”

Oh, no. This is _definitely_ not real. Connor now understands why this whole situation is too good to be true: it’s because it hasn’t been real this entire time. He’s still probably standing there on that riverboat, locked in Fantasy Land, waiting to snap out of it, because a man with the looks and personality that Markus Manfred has would never, _ever_ ask him to dance with him.

It’s a shame, too, because Connor imagines that real Markus would probably be as good a dancer as he envisions Fantasy Markus to be. The guy could probably quite literally sweep Connor clean off his feet, and Fantasy Connor wouldn’t get all flustered and awkward and weird about it.

Reality Connor, however, faces Markus directly. Whether he’s Fantasy Markus or not, Connor does not have the balls to start dancing with him. No way, no how.

“You, uh,” Connor starts, clearing his throat, “you really don’t want to see what I look like when I’m dancing.”

Markus cocks an eyebrow. “I believe I just voiced that I did, actually.” He places both hands on his hips and shrugs nonchalantly. “Look, maybe you’re not a great dancer, or maybe you’re incredible at it and just don’t realize, but the point still stands that I want you to dance with me. C’mon, let’s have some fun.”

Connor isn’t so sure he’s ready for something like that. Maybe he really _is_ overthinking it, but at the same time, dancing isn’t all that fun when you don’t feel like you’re very good at it. Clearly, Markus can see that hesitation too, because he takes the moment to speak right back up.

“Okay, I’ll make you a deal.” He gestures toward the little group of people outside of the restaurant who have gathered and started dancing. “If you get started and decide you’re not having fun, we’ll stop, okay? But just give it a shot for me.” Following those words, he has the audacity to look directly into Connor’s eyes with a mismatched pair of his own that are too goddamned gorgeous for words with a gaze that he probably knows is exactly the ticket to getting what he wants.

“Please?”

It instantly works. Connor immediately finds himself thinking that maybe once he gets started, it won’t be so bad. He’s here to have a good time, and Markus has been giving him one this entire afternoon, so surely it couldn’t be as awful as he’s anticipating it’s going to be, right?

When he returns back to the present, Markus has extended a hand out to him, his palm up. Connor notices how beautiful his hands are. He’s got big hands with long fingers—the fingers of an artist—and Connor immediately wants to hold that hand. That in mind, he nods cautiously and takes the proffered hand.

Warmth instantly surrounds his fingers as Markus guides Connor closer to the crowd. The tune that’s been playing this entire time has stopped and a new, equally energetic one starts. Markus is smiling at Connor as he starts moving.

“Just focus on me.”

Connor does as he’s instructed. In seconds, he’s holding Markus’ other hand as he’s guided into step. The good news is that he’s good at registering a beat, so he’s able to keep up with Markus’ tempo. The bad news is that he absolutely has no idea how to move his hips or his body to any sort of music, so he knows he looks like a late-game round of _Jenga_ while he’s doing so.

And Markus is laughing, but Connor knows without having to confirm it that he’s not laughing _at_ him. Or rather, he’s not making fun of him. He’s just enjoying himself. He keeps moving, and Connor follows his lead, and the next thing he knows, he’s in a world where just he and Markus and that exciting, playful Zydeco music exist. He finds that he too can’t help but laugh, and god, he’s on cloud nine.

Connor doesn’t dance. Chloe has dragged him out onto dance floor after dance floor and encouraged him to do so, but he’s always felt so small and insignificant in comparison to her. She’s never given him any grief for his lack of dancing skills, and she’s always hated to see him walk away, but he’s never had the balls to keep going.

But this…this doesn’t even feel like dancing anymore. Markus has found a way to make it something else entirely. Connor doesn’t understand what power it is that this man possesses, but he knows without even having to question it that he’s utterly helpless against it. And while he’s not going to burden himself by thinking about it right now, it’s going to absolutely suck to have to go his separate ways from Markus again.

Time stops making sense at this point. It’s just moving, laughing, holding hands, and having a good time in general. Connor barely registers the changes in song until said change becomes more drastic, slowing down considerably. The river and the stone and all the lights return when Zydeco gives way to soft, smooth jazz.

He’s out of breath and fully prepared to pull away, when Markus does something surprising. Connor feels one of those hands pull him closer, and an arm slide around his waist. The other continues to clasp Connor’s hand, while Markus grins down at him. He chuckles softly, and the breathy way he does so sucks the air out of Connor’s lungs all over again.

“Don’t tell me you thought I wouldn’t want to slow dance with you at least once.”

To Connor, this almost feels like phase-shifting. Back and forth to Fantasy Land and Reality and then just Markus’ Universe, and it’s almost dizzying, but Connor can’t bring himself to pull away. He’s a worse slow-dancer than he is a _regular_ dancer, so he doesn’t have high hopes for the situation, but he can’t stop himself from bringing his now-free hand up and sliding it around Markus’ shoulders. And the next thing he knows, they’re swaying to the music.

Markus’ gaze is a little bit of everywhere, and not in the awkward way that junior high school couples in slow dances look all over the place. No…it’s more like he’s taking it all in. He’s peering into Connor’s eyes, and then he’s looking off at the water, and the lights, and the group playing the music. Connor almost always feels insignificant in the wake of moments like this, but for the first time since he’s been hanging out with Markus today, he gets the feeling that he’s not the only one.

And in Markus’ defense, there’s so very much to take in.

Connor strangely doesn’t mind the silence. He finds it oddly easy to follow Markus’ lead, even if it’s the absolute best he can do to fixate on the face of the man dancing with him. Markus has him held close enough that their bodies are almost pressed together, and Connor can feel the warmth coming from his own body. He can smell the faint scent of cologne, and when he finally manages to glance down away from Markus’ face, he can almost make out the cottony material of the shirt the other man is wearing.

It’s tempting to lean in and rest his head on Markus’ shoulder.

And apparently, Markus picks up on that temptation, because he chooses then to speak up. “C’mere,” he instructs, before he releases Connor’s hand and slides his other arm around his waist, pulling them so close that their bodies touch.

Connor thinks that in any other situation, he’d be panicking, but Markus is just…so very comforting. Those words are an invitation rather than an insistence, and before he can so much as stop himself, he’s got his chest pressed to Markus’ and his face buried in the crook of the man’s neck.

If this truthfully is Reality Land rather than Fantasy Land, Markus’ hold is everything Connor had ever imagined it would be. His grip is gentle and relaxed, and Connor feels no need to take things any further than they’re going right now. He doesn’t know what this means for either of them, but he does know that whatever is going on, it’s mutual.

This fact only confirms itself when Markus turns his head to lean it atop Connor’s. Connor can’t stop himself from curling both arms around Markus’ frame, resting his hands at his shoulder blades as the two continue dancing.

Chloe is going to lose her freaking _mind_ when Connor tells her how this evening has gone.

The text message Markus sent him earlier still sits, unread, on his phone, which he is perfectly content leaving in his pocket until he gets back to the hotel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the next update will probably take a good while too, but please stick with me on this. i'm having a blast writing this fic, but my job and my irl life are extremely demanding right now. to those of you who are still reading and enjoying this, and to the lovely person who requested it, thank you so, so much. ; w;


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ayyy, hello again! after yet another month, i come bearing an update! i'm pretty excited about this chapter, so here's to hoping y'all enjoy it as much as i did writing it!

Connor isn’t the type of person to come home from a first date all giddy and bouncing on the balls of his feet like a teenager, but—

No, you know what? Screw that. He _totally_ is, because that’s basically what he’s doing right now. He might not be jumping up and down as he gets back to the hotel, but with the way his heart and stomach are thrumming around in his body like they’re trying to nab the high score on a game of pinball, he might as well be. And this wasn’t _technically_ a date, even.

The point is, he can’t keep his excitement under control. He steps into the room with a big, stupid grin spread wide across his lips, because he can’t stop thinking about how smoothly Markus had guided him while they had danced, or just how warm he had been when he had pulled Connor closer. They had danced together for a good couple more hours after that, and the instant Connor had learned that Markus didn’t give a damn whether he could dance or not, he had lost all inhibitions.

Somewhere along the lines of that evening, he had realized that everyone else’s opinion didn’t matter. To him, Markus’ opinion did, but to Markus, even his own hadn’t. It had been all about having fun, and Connor had done just that.

Markus had called a cab and ridden with him all the way back to the hotel, and they’d said their goodbyes with yet another picture together. Markus had made Connor promise to meet back up with him at the convention, and Connor hadn’t even needed any convincing. He’d been down from the very start.

Connor is crushing _hard_ on Markus, and he’s almost gathered enough evidence to make him believe that the feeling’s reciprocal.

In any case, Chloe is wide awake when Connor enters the room. She’s all wrapped up in her phone, but the instant she sees the way Connor is smiling, she promptly plops her phone down onto the bedside table and sits bolt upright.

“Oh my god,” she gasps out, her bright blue eyes wide with realization, “you guys really _did_ become a thing!”

Connor immediately feels a little sheepish in response to those words. He brings his hand up to the back of his neck, scrubbing at the skin nervously. “Well, not necessarily…but it was a _really_ good night.”

Chloe cocks her head, her blonde hair falling down over her shoulders now that she’s let it down. “You’re not going to tell me nothing happened when you’re grinning like you just got your first kiss.”

In Connor’s defense, he’s _had_ his first kiss already, thank-you-very-much. It was an awkward, more teeth and noses kind of kiss that Connor doesn’t care to try and remember, but he’s had that before. And Chloe knows this much, because she was the first person Connor had told when it had happened.

“Seriously, Chloe,” Connor replies, moving to strip down so that he can change into some pajama pants, “we didn’t do anything. Or, well, not in the way you’re thinking.”

“I didn’t suggest you guys got it on or anything,” Chloe scoffs. “But come on, tell me everything.”

Oh, Connor’s planning on it. Chloe had seen his crush on Markus before he himself had seen it. She’s going to be the first person he tells about anything regarding himself and Markus. That in mind, once he’s finished brushing his teeth and winding down for the night, he crawls into the other side of the bed and starts the long, exciting tale about what he and Markus Manfred had been up to this evening.

It’s nice, being able to relive it by telling Chloe. The ride up into the arch, the view from the sidelines of Markus staring down from inside said Arch, and the ride back down when they had met those girls. Harper and her highly sobering introspection into how art affected her as a person. Walking on that old stone street, having dinner, listening to music…dancing.

“You know me,” Connor tells her around a breathy laugh, “I hate dancing. You practically have to drag me out every time there’s something playing that you want me to dance with you to.”

“I do,” Chloe replies, giggling.

“Well, Markus didn’t really give me a choice, and he did it in the most gentle, reassuring kind of way. It was like he told me he was there, pulled me out onto the street, and guided me along. The next thing I knew, he was…god, Chloe, he was _holding_ me.”

When was the last time Connor had ever engaged romantically with a partner, let alone danced with one? He feels downright giddy, like he’s just coming out of Prom with a new boyfriend or something.

“How did the two of you not _kiss_?” Chloe squeals, and the look on her face tells Connor she’s legitimately shocked. “This is something straight out of a Disney movie, okay? Please, at least tell me you finally got the dude’s number.”

“Sure did,” Connor responds, before he picks his phone up. There’s a tiny part of him who almost wonders if he hallucinated that whole part, so he finds himself making sure he really had gotten Markus’ number, and that’s when he remembers Markus had sent him a text message earlier. He should probably wait until Chloe goes to bed to read it, but he can’t stop himself. He opens the message with the intention of adding Markus to his contacts, but the words on the screen stop him short.

_“[5:54 PM:] I don’t just want to keep in touch. I want to get to know you. Let’s see where this goes, Connor.”_

By the time Connor finishes reading the message, he’s gone about thirty shades of beet red, and he knows his eyes are practically bulging out of his skull. He feels a little dizzy, and he’s starting to think that this was _definitely_ a date he’d just unknowingly been on.

Reality Markus is so much more fascinating than Fantasy Markus.

_Let’s see where this goes._

Connor swears he hears sparks in the back of his mind, because he knows for a fact he is visibly short-circuiting. When’s the last time, aside from Shields, anyone had willingly flirted with him like this? There’s no way that kind of message is _not_ a flirt. Connor’s last remaining brain cells are running around frantically inside his mind trying to decide what to do.

A part of him wants to abort the situation altogether. To cut off ties and stop either of them from getting hurt before they get too attached. Long-distance relationships aren’t easy ones, and Markus has the public’s eye on him constantly. It could wind up being bad publicity for him.

But the other, more romantic part of Connor genuinely wants more. He wants to see what happens when they _do_ start getting to know one another better. He wants to feel those arms around him again, and maybe, just maybe, he’s fantasizing a little about what stealing that first kiss would have been like.

When he comes back to the present, he sees that Chloe is waiting patiently for him to say something. He doesn’t think he has the ability to come up with the words, so he instead passes his phone to her. She reads the message and then promptly tosses the phone up into the air, letting out a dramatic gasp.

“He _likes_ you!”

Connor thinks back to all the times Chloe had said that she had a feeling Connor’s crush on Markus was reciprocated, so it shocks him a little how surprised she sounds. “I…yeah, I think he does.”

Chloe calms down there, turning to face Connor. “You have got to tell him how you feel at some point this weekend. I have a really good feeling about if you do.”

Connor is a creature of doubt, though, always quick to second-guess himself and everything around him. It’s a part of what makes him such a good photographer—he knows exactly when to press the shutter button, to capture that perfect moment. That in mind, he shakes his head. “We could just be assuming things. Markus is a really friendly guy.”

The look on Chloe’s face tells Connor she’s not buying those words even for a second. “Don’t be a pessimist, Connor. He literally said ‘Let’s see where this goes’.”

“Yeah, but—”

Chloe shakes her head. “I don’t think he’s the type to get all weirded out if it turns out he doesn’t feel the same way. If he doesn’t, he’ll probably just tell you how he feels and the two of you can still be friends. But if you don’t tell him, you’re never gonna know. What’re you afraid of more? Not knowing, or being rejected?”

What _is_ Connor more afraid of? He can’t imagine seeing any look on Markus’ face other than that relaxed smile or that curious, dazed expression, and he would hate to be the one who managed to give him a reason to frown or scowl. On the flipside, if there really _is_ something between them and Connor doesn’t try and get his hands on it, what’s going to happen then? He can’t exactly afford to go to Virginia Beach right away, so it’ll be a long time before the two of them meet up again. Markus could find someone else by then, or he could grow out of his feelings altogether…

“Okay,” Connor clears his throat, before he flops back onto the bed. “I’ll figure something out…somehow.”

“Good!” Chloe chirps in delighted response, before she leans over, kisses Connor’s forehead, and lowers herself beneath the blankets once more. “Sleep well, Connor.”

\--- --- --- --- ---

How Connor manages to fall asleep that night is beyond him, but it comes to him surprisingly easily. He’s typically the guy who lies awake at night and thinks about everything that happened from the time he was five years old up until tonight and somehow uses it all to invalidate himself as a human being, but he passes clean out within minutes. Maybe the situation really is just that good, or maybe he’s exhausted.

In any case, he dreams vividly that night. He dreams about the Arch and the riverboat, and about walking with Markus on that beach back in Florida. He dreams about having drinks with North and Simon and Josh and realizes he misses the hell out of them. He dreams about the hypothetical moment wherein he and Markus come together finally and close the distance between one another.

In his dreams, there’s very little light, and he and Markus are walking alongside one another at a pier. He turns and walks down along a deck, where the light seems to conveniently follow him. Markus does the same, seemingly pulled in by sheer curiosity.

Connor turns to face Markus, and he opens his mouth to say the words, but he can’t hear his own voice. He sees the movement of his lips from a third person perspective, but there’s no sound. Markus stares at him, before he breaks into a smile. He mouths something Connor can’t hear, and then moves in close.

Connor can practically feel those hands on either side of his face before his alarm sounds and sends him flying off the hotel bed and onto the floor. This triggers a scream from Chloe, who is already up and blow-drying her hair. Afterward, she cuts the blow-dryer off and bursts into laughter.

“Jesus, Connor, you scared the hell out of me!”

Connor, embarrassed, stares down at the carpet in shame. His eyes are wide as he processes everything that just happened in his dreams. “I scared the hell out of myself…” he groans as he plops his forehead down onto the ground.

He needs to get his mind off of Markus for at least the next handful of hours. He and Chloe are going to be at the convention after all, taking a look around. He needs to start working with Chloe to come up with questions to ask Carl.

Then again, knowing Chloe, she’s probably already got plenty of them. Still, the reason he came out here was to interview Carl Manfred. The point wasn’t to get himself a long-distance boyfriend.

He knows he promised Chloe he’d talk to Markus, but that can’t be all he’s capable of.

“You should get in the shower,” Chloe tells him all of a sudden, turning the blow-dryer back on. “You invited Markus to breakfast this morning.”

“I did what now?” Connor looks around for his phone, only to find that it has been placed on the dresser next to the television, hooked up to the charger. Connor definitely doesn’t remember sending Markus a text message, which can only mean that Chloe had gone behind his back and sent one of her own.

But it’s just breakfast, right? Surely, that can’t be too bad. It’s not like Chloe set them up with a reservation to one of those expensive restaurants featured in movies with the candlelit dinners and piano music tinkling in the background. She probably meant well by it, even if Connor still wants to kick her in the ass for it.

“For the record,” she clarifies, apparently reading Connor’s mind, “I felt bad the instant I sent the message, so I won’t be doing anything like that again. Sorry for stepping on your toes.”

“You’d better be,” Connor responds back, though the bite in his words isn’t all there. “I’m sure you meant well, but—”

“I know,” Chloe’s busy tossing her hair as she speaks, “and I was about to send him another message before he turned around and accepted. I’ll be there, so it won’t be too weird, okay? He said he was plenty okay with me tagging along.”

Connor nods, before he pats her on the shoulder. “Give me twenty minutes.” Had it been anyone other than Chloe who had pulled that stunt, Connor would have contemplated drop-kicking them.

“Nineteen and fifty-nine seconds!” Chloe replies, and Connor flips her off before he shuts the bathroom door.

Funny, how he tries to get his mind off of Markus, but Chloe manages to throw the guy right back into the equation. It’s not like he was going to be able to wipe Markus out of his memory for a whole day, anyway, but still. At the same time, maybe it’s better this way. Maybe Connor and Markus can have their talk and their outcome and see where things go, and _then_ Connor can focus on how they’re going to go about this interview and all the things taking place at the convention.

When’s the last time Connor ever confessed he had a crush on someone?

Has he _ever_?

As he washes up, he allows himself a bit of a traverse into Fantasy Land, where Fantasy Markus is waiting eagerly for him to open up. He thinks about how he’s going to say it—it’d be too dramatic to outright confess, wouldn’t it? Then again, waiting for the right moment seems a little cliché. How would Markus want him to go about it? Would he prefer the straight up honesty, or would he rather see Connor put forth some effort in making it as heartfelt as possible?

Why in the hell is he _dwelling_ so much on it? Connor can see his reflection in the temperature handle on the shower, and he glares at it as if it’s the one giving him all these awful ideas.

It’s with this very pointed glare that he manages to push the thoughts away. Fantasy Markus will have to wait. Reality Connor has to get ready for a breakfast with Reality Markus, and he has a very strong feeling that he’s only really going to know what to do when he sees the guy in person.

He dresses up in jeans and a blue button-up, which Chloe puts into a French tuck because she just _knows_ he can pull it off perfectly. He fiddles some with his hair, and then backs away from the big mirror overlooking the hotel room’s sink. He thinks he’s about as satisfied with his appearance as he can get.

For a split second, he even finds himself thinking that he doesn’t look half-bad. He adjusts his collar a bit, and then he and Chloe are on their way out of the room and to the restaurant where they’ll be having breakfast.

It’s not far from their hotel, and it’s off the main roads. It looks something like a little hole-in-the-wall place that Chloe had put a lot of effort into finding for the sake of not having Markus swarmed by fans and paparazzi. Connor appreciates that more and more as he approaches. When he and Chloe arrive, the server directs them to a booth. This one doesn’t have a window seat, but Connor doesn’t mind. He’s too focused on the interior of the restaurant to really care. It’s got old-fashioned curtains hanging from all the windows and big, heavy chandelier-type lighting suspended from the ceiling. It looks like a country home in the form of a restaurant, and Connor kind of likes it.

Where do Markus and Chloe find these places?

He orders his drinks, and then he peers up, just in time to see Markus being directed toward their table. He looks stupidly good, sporting a deep red three-quarter-sleeve sweatshirt layered over a white collared shirt and deep gray jeans. Connor could honestly picture him wearing a knapsack and he’d still be good-looking, though.

He’s a little jealous of how easy Markus makes it look.

Either way, he and Chloe both greet him with a smile as he takes a seat. “Morning, guys.”

“Morning, Markus,” Chloe replies eagerly, and Connor waves nervously next to her.

“Good morning, Markus.”

“Thanks for the invite, by the way,” Markus continues after he orders his drink from the server and starts looking over the menu. “I didn’t want hotel breakfast, so you gave me the perfect opening.”

“I did, huh?” Connor replies, ignoring the way he can see Chloe’s amusement next to him out of the corner of his eye. “I’m glad.”

Markus peers over his menu for a second at Connor, before he turns his focus back to it. “So…what’re your plans for today?”

Chloe is looking over her own menu as she speaks up. “We haven’t gotten that far, yet,” she replies around a soft laugh. “We’re definitely checking out the convention at some point, but up until then, we don’t have any set plans.”

Connor is oddly relieved that she doesn’t seem to be trying to remove herself from their plans for the sake of putting him and Markus alone together. She probably knows on her own that Connor needs some time with her around to process exactly what he wants to do. Besides, he’s got to spend at least some of this weekend with his best friend.

“Well, I’ve been wanting to check out the botanical garden,” Markus speaks up there, his voice inquisitive. “You guys want to come with?”

Both Chloe and Connor light up visibly. The Missouri Botanical Garden was advertised in the lobby of their hotel, and Chloe had commented on how cool it had looked in the first place. So naturally, they’re both excited to give it a look. The weather’s cool today, but not cold, so they won’t be burning up in the sun either.

“Please take us with you,” Connor responds almost desperately, earning himself a laugh from Markus.

“Alright, it’s a date,” he replies to both of them, smiling widely. “After breakfast, of course.”

One thing Connor learns quickly about the restaurant Chloe picked is that it has the best biscuits and gravy he has ever tried in his entire existence. He ate them so quickly that it almost felt like they were sticking to his ribs, so needless to say, he’s been excited ever since to get to the garden and walk some of it off.

The botanical gardens are _huge_ , and it’s nothing like Connor pictured. The paths aren’t just lined with different forms of well-arranged plant life—they’re decorated with statues and monuments and little bits of information here and there. North America’s largest Japanese garden is featured here, complete with a Japanese-style bridge that overlooks a stream of water.

Chloe is like a kid in a candy store, and Connor isn’t far behind her. He’s sipping at hot chocolate or he’d be getting as excited as she is. Every so often, he passes his drink to Markus and takes a few pictures with his camera. Chloe volunteers to be in a couple of the shots, but her focus quickly returns to everything around her and how much she’s enjoying it all. She’s a good couple of yards ahead of Markus and Connor, as Markus finally speaks up.

“She’s excitable, isn’t she?”

Connor just shrugs, taking another sip of his drink. “This is part of why she wanted to go into journalism. She likes seeing new things, and she’s a literal vacuum for information. She’s going to be the lady in the nursing homes dishing out legitimately fascinating bits of useless information to the staff and other residents there.”

Markus laughs at that. “I can believe it. So, did she ever give you your phone back?”

Connor, visibly confused, looks over at Markus with a frown on his face. He’s just about to open his mouth and question it, before the realization hits him. “You knew it wasn’t me who invited you to breakfast this morning.”

“Of course I did,” Markus answers, chuckling. “You’re so nervous all the time, I was ready to have to wait and look for you at the convention. Plus, my text message last night was probably pretty forward…”

Connor’s cheeks and ears flush bright red, there.

_Let’s see where this goes._

“No, I liked it,” Connor manages, before turning even redder. “I mean—the message? Oh god, that’s not what I meant…”

“I think I get it,” Markus responds with a shrug. “In any case, I meant it.”

Connor can’t help the fact that he’s staring again. Markus never fails to surprise him. He’s gaping at the other man out of the corner of his eyes, and his stomach is doing backflips. Now would be a perfect time to say something, but he just can’t seem to get the words out.

“Thanks, Markus,” Connor instead replies, fixing him with a genuine smile. He’s nervous as all getout, but he loves talking to Markus, so it’s worth it. Maybe it’s not so much about confessing attraction as it is just enjoying the time he’s got with the guy. These gardens are a perfect way to go about it.

Connor doesn’t fully understand it, but his nervousness always falls to the wayside once they start talking. Markus is as full of random facts as Chloe is, so he spends most of their walk consistently amazing Connor with information about several of the things they see. He confesses toward the end of their tour that most of the information was gathered when he was learning how to draw and paint different pieces of wildlife. He seems embarrassed about it, but Connor and Chloe both think it’s fascinating that someone is dedicated enough to their art to learn more scientifics about it in order to do it right.

As they finally exit the gardens, Connor tosses his drink in the trash and they start toward the cab Markus has called to get them to the convention center. It’s about to be a whole different experience, going from peaceful garden tours to a building full of people in costume and vendors selling things, but Connor is strangely excited for it. After reading up on the comic that Carl had cameoed in, he’s a little curious to see how other people feel about his appearance in it. And he may be able to recognize some of the cosplays and snap a few photos while he’s at it.

The hot chocolate has awakened him by the time they arrive at the big building, and Markus has to separate from them there.

“Send me a text when you guys are all done having your fun, yeah?” He requests to Connor. “We can hang out a little more.”

Connor’s stomach flutters nervously. “Okay, will do.” He waves as Markus goes into another door, and then focuses on the line they’ve become a part of. It’s a long line, and beyond said line is a door leading into the convention center, where Connor can hear loud chatter all the way from here.

Connor doesn’t read comic books. He’s seen movie series based on comic books, but aside from his all-night foray into the story Carl had been featured in, he’s never really had any interest in giving them a shot. That being said, he knows very little about what he’s about to walk into. He’s a little nervous, but he’s also excited for the possibility of recognizing people cosplaying as characters from the series he _did_ read and maybe getting the chance to photograph them.

Considering the article is about Carl, having a few photos of people dressed as characters from the comic he cameos in isn’t so out of place—it might even _make_ the article.

Either way, it takes quite some time for the line to dwindle. Ahead of them, some of the people in the line are in costume, though Connor doesn’t recognize the outfits. He thinks he’s seen one of them in a movie, but he can’t quite put his finger on it.

Chloe, on the other hand, is looking all over the place. Connor glances over just in time to see her blue eyes lit up bright from all the signs and the sight of the different people congregating. She mutters something about a movie with a title Connor doesn’t recognize.

Chloe isn’t exactly a comic book guru herself, but she knows more than Connor does. She’s read a few different series, and while she avoids the longer ones like the plague, she has some knowledge of them. Connor has perused through a couple of the books she has back at home, but he never actually bothered to read them. Now, he sort of wishes he had.

When they finally get to the front of the line, they present their vouchers and are given lanyards that proclaim they have a weekend pass to the convention. They fill out a small amount of paperwork, and then they’re on their way.

The setup is pretty simple—the main hall is where people can gather to talk among one another, sit and rest with everything they’ve gotten from the convention, and take cosplay photos. There are a few hallways with signs leading to different panels featuring famous artists and even voice actors from different series and movies. All the way past the main hallway is the vendor room, where Connor and Chloe find there are artists and vendors from all over the world gathered to sell what they have to offer. It’s everything from fanart to figures to shirts with inside jokes on them. Connor’s heart melts a little when he sees a young girl dressed as a princess poring excitedly over a table filled with charms and keychains. Her parents stand on either side of her.

The chatter is loud, but it’s also distant. It surrounds Connor, but it’s not invasive. Everyone is doing their own thing, and for the most part, he doesn’t feel like bothering them.

He does manage to find someone cosplaying the series he read, though. A young man, probably close to his age, has nearly perfectly captured the image of one of the male villains in the books, all the way down to the posture. Connor is so deeply impressed that he’s almost afraid to approach.

“Please, Connor,” Chloe reassures, giving her friend a nudge. “Cosplayers live for this shit. They _want_ you to take pictures. The worst the dude can say is ‘no’.”

Connor is still reluctant, but he eventually swallows that hesitance and makes his way over. At present, the man is sitting on a bench, reading something on his phone. Connor moves to stand in front of him, clearing his throat.

“Excuse me…you’re dressed up as Curtis Tucker, right?”

The man looks up from his phone and flashes Connor a curious smile. “Who’s asking?”

Oh, that is _such_ a Tucker line.

“Just a photographer,” Connor replies, still a bit nervous. “I’d love to snap a few pictures if you’d be willing.”

After a few seconds pondering Connor’s request, the Tucker cosplayer stands up again. He pockets his phone and shrugs his shoulders. “What’s your name?” He’s still smiling.

“Connor Stern,” Connor replies, extending a hand. This guy’s got the cosplay down so well that Connor almost feels like he’s talking to the villain himself. For that reason, he’s still not quite sure how to interact with him.

“Nice to meet you, Connor,” the man responds, smiling widely as he shakes Connor’s hand. “Eli Turner. Not a lot of people give this comic a shot, so you’re gonna have to forgive me for being a kid in a candy store here about someone actually recognizing my cosplay.”

A nervous laugh follows those words, before Connor shakes his head. “You won’t be so impressed when you hear what led me into it.”

Following a quick photoshoot, Connor takes a seat on the bench with his new friend. He confesses that he hasn’t really ever been into comic books and that he happened upon this series because someone he’s going to be photographing had made a cameo in it.

“But the story’s really good—I started reading it out of curiosity and couldn’t put it down once I got going.”

“Yeah, it does that,” Eli responds around a laugh, leaning back and placing his hands in his lap. “But I’m guessing you’re referring to Carl Manfred, right?”

Connor nods. “My friend and I are business partners and she really wanted a chance to meet him. She sparked my curiosity, and now, here I am.” A shrug follows his words.

Eli smiles at that. “She accidentally made you a fan. I like it.”

A few minutes later, Chloe joins Connor and his new friend and they spend some time talking. Eli then introduces them to his friends once he happens upon them once more. Before any of them know it, they’re all in a group, walking the convention together. They stop at the signing where Carl is before his panel, and Carl flashes Connor and Chloe a wave.

As Connor and his group draws closer, Connor makes the observation that Carl is a pleasant mix of professional and sarcastic. His dry humor has the people in line laughing and chattering excitedly, and the atmosphere is light and enjoyable as a result.

Connor sees Harper and her friends close to the front of the line. Harper is nervously tapping her fingers on her bookbag, which she is hugging tight to her chest. She glances up in time to meet eyes with Connor, and Connor can’t help but wave.

“Friend of yours?” Chloe asks, confused.

“Markus and I met her and her friends on the tram yesterday,” Connor explains. “The girls I was telling you about last night.”

In the end, Connor and Chloe decide not to go through the line today. They’ll talk to Carl plenty tomorrow, and other people are waiting in line, so their being there is pointless. Eli and his friends choose to stay in line, so the group goes their separate ways. Connor thanks Eli for the pictures, and then they’re off to go get food.

Conventions are fun, but after some time, they get a little overwhelming. By the time Connor and Chloe have stopped for lunch, Connor is exhausted and perhaps even a bit overstimulated. He sips away at his milkshake while Chloe munches on French fries. He can practically feel her gaze on him, and he knows without having to look up that her eyebrows are wrought in a tight frown.

“…You want to call it a day?” She asks, genuinely concerned for her friend.

Connor shakes his head. “No…there’s still so much we can do.”

“Yeah, there is,” Chloe retorts, rolling her eyes, “but there’s also tomorrow. Besides, didn’t you have another date with Markus?”

Connor shrugs. “He’s probably still busy—we weren’t planning on leaving for a couple more hours. Besides, I’m here to spend time with you too.”

Chloe outright laughs. “Connor, we live together. We spend plenty of time with each other. You get to see this dude maybe once in a blue moon? Go get your star-crossed romance! Send the dude a text and see what he’s up to.”

Connor stares down at his phone. It’s just past four now, which means their lunch was actually a pretty late lunch. Inviting Markus to dinner is a little out of the question considering he’s already eaten. But maybe another one of those walks would be nice…

He bites the bullet and shoots a quick text Markus’ way:

_[4:07 PM] Hey, so I think I want you to show me more of St. Louis. I’m available whenever you are._

When he looks up from his phone, Chloe looks up from her own. “Mind you, I think I’m still going to check out some of the panels. I’ll message you when I’m headed back to the hotel.”

Connor’s phone buzzes there, and he glances down at the message on his lock screen.

_[4:08 PM] I’m down! Let me just wrap up a few things here and I’ll meet you outside of the convention center?_

Connor smiles, nibbling somewhat at his lip.

“I’m gonna assume he gave you a ‘yes’,” Chloe teases.

Connor scrubs at the back of his neck. Yeah, Chloe—that was a yes.

\--- --- --- --- ---

“The way you worded that message…” Markus’ teasing words are light and playful as he and Connor walk toward a cab he’s called for them. “Like you think I know my way around this place.”

Connor thinks he should be embarrassed, but he isn’t. To be honest, he’s a little on the tired side, which puts a bit of a weight on his nervousness. He’s probably also getting a lot more comfortable being around Markus like this. “I dunno what it is, honestly—you just seem to know what you’re talking about.”

Markus shakes his head. “I look at vacation pamphlets and google cool places to go. Was there anything in particular you wanted to see?”

Connor ponders the question for a moment, before he shakes his own head. “To be honest, that convention was…exhausting. I wouldn’t be mad if we relaxed somewhere. Is a movie too forward?”

“Too forward, huh?” Markus scoffs playfully. “Why don’t I do you one better and suggest we go to my hotel room?”

Connor glances at him out of the corner of his eye. Faintly, he can peruse through Fantasy Land and envision himself in a hotel room alone with Markus, doing things that tend to pop up in fantasies, but he doesn’t get the impression that Markus is exactly implying such a thing. “We could still watch a movie there, so that’ll work for me.”

Oh, how Chloe would lose her damned mind if she knew where Connor was headed right now. But rather than excitedly send her a text message, Connor instead focuses out the window. He faintly hears as Markus tells the driver their new destination.

“Where were you taking us before this?” Connor questions, still watching out the window.

“The water,” Markus replies simply. “Figured we’d walk around until we decided on something. Instead, we’ll just grab a few drinks on our way up and watch some movies. You’ve got to give me a genre, though.”

Connor thinks for a moment, before he yawns out a reply. “I could go for a nice, over-the-top romantic comedy, or maybe something with a lot of stupid humor in it.”

Markus raises both eyebrows. “ _The Hangover_?”

“ _The Hangover_ , it is.” Connor laughs. It doesn’t exactly have what you would call ‘romance’ in it, but the humor is pretty on point.

When they reach Markus’ hotel, Connor figures he shouldn’t be surprised. It had been distant when Markus had pointed it out on that night on the water, but even from that distance, Connor had been able to tell that it was likely a four or five-star hotel. On top of that, Markus’ room is a suite, complete with individual rooms and everything. There’s a bedroom divided from a kitchen with a bar that separates it from the living room. The restroom is through the bedroom, and there’s a balcony looking out toward the very pathway Markus had been pointing from on that evening.

He’s never going to cease being amazed by things like this.

“You have your own suite?” Connor questions, unable to hide the look of awe on his face.

Markus is in the middle of selecting their movie on the television as he speaks up. “Dad says we’ll get tired of each other if we stay in the same hotel rooms. I still stop by to help him as he needs it, but he’s all about encouraging my independence.”

“I think that’s a good thing…isn’t it?” Connor questions from the balcony as he peers out toward that restaurant. He can just barely make out the sign above the door.

“It’s sweet, yeah,” Markus replies. Connor hears him rooting through cabinets, so he turns around to watch as the other man pours them both glasses of soda. “Dad has MS, though, so I try to stay close when I can. He’s got people for when I’m not around, but I’ve never had a problem helping him.”

Connor steps back in from the balcony, sliding the door closed behind him. “When comes the part where you reveal some deep dark secret that makes you not a good person?”

“Excuse me?” Markus questions around a laugh.

“You’re just such a nice guy,” Connor rushes to explain, perhaps a bit nervously. “Good personality, good circle of friends, and a fantastic son to boot. I’m just trying to figure out where your flaws are.”

Markus seems lost in thought for a moment, before he passes Connor his soda and starts toward the couch. “Alright, then. Do me a favor, Connor—name some of your flaws, and I’ll gladly name mine.”

That’s not a good thing to ask someone like Connor to do. He’s not the most confident person out there, and when it comes to thinking about things he dislikes about himself, he can come up with a whole laundry list. He decides he’s not going to do that, because what guy likes listening to someone talk about all the things that are _wrong_ with them?

He goes with the most immediate thing he can think of, rather than the extensive list. “I’m not good with people. That’s why I take the pictures instead of asking the questions.”

“But you take damn good pictures, right?” Markus shrugs.

“I like to think so, yeah. But if I ever had to go solo, I’d never get one proper question out.” A nervous laugh follows his words.

“I don’t think that’s the case, though,” Markus is laughing too, as he takes a seat. He places his drink on the coffee table. “I’ve seen you try to rush and explain your way out of something you’ve said to me. Maybe it is a flaw, but it’s also something that _you_ do, and I don’t find it all that unpleasant.”

“It’s frustrating coming from me, though,” Connor quickly explains. “For once, I’d like to be able to not sound like I’m trying to claw my way out of a paper bag.”

Markus stops there, his eyebrows jumping up with realization. “I’m sorry, Connor. I didn’t mean you should be happy about it. I’m sure it’s frustrating—I just wanted you to know that I don’t consider it at all when I think of you as a person.”

“I know you didn’t,” Connor smiles at him, kicking his shoes off and pulling his feet up onto the couch. “What about your flaws?”

Markus thinks for a moment, before he turns his gaze back to Connor. “I have a one-track mind. Once I’ve got my heart set on something, I have trouble letting it go, even if getting there seems kind of impossible.”

Connor cocks his head. “I mean, you _did_ finish an entire mural all on your own.”

Markus chuckles a little, but shakes his head as well. “I think it gets out of hand sometimes, though. When I was a teenager, some guy was being a real jerk to Dad, calling him a cripple and things like that. It really got to me, so I worked my way up the chain of command until I got that guy fired from the hotel he worked at. Dad wasn’t happy about it, but I still don’t feel all that guilty.”

“He was being a jerk, right?” Connor responds though. “You had every right to make sure that guy got punished for being so hurtful.”

“I don’t think I wanted him to lose his job, though,” Markus replies. “I just wanted him to understand that Dad’s disability isn’t something he ever got to choose.”

“I still don’t think that counts as a deep, dark secret,” Connor answers around a soft laugh. “I still think you’re a good person.”

Markus pauses there, but doesn’t argue. Connor sees something of a small smile on his lips, before he turns his focus to the television screen and presses play.

Connor can tell the instant the movie starts that they’ve both seen it a hundred times. They’re only about halfway paying attention to it, and exhaustion be damned, Connor realizes that no matter how tired he is, he still wants to focus more on Markus than this movie. Maybe he should’ve suggested something neither of them had seen before…

He’s tempted to scoot closer. They’re both at opposite ends of the couch, and it doesn’t feel right. But Connor has yet to tell Markus about his own feelings, so that probably isn’t a very good idea.

Instead, though, It’s Markus who makes the first move.

Or rather, speaks up.

“So, when do you fly back?”

Connor doesn’t want to talk about when he has to go back to his normal life in Detroit yet. He’s still trying to wrap his head around this moment—a point in time that he’d never dreamed he would have reached with someone as nice as Markus. The more he talks to him, the less he wants to think about what his normal life is going to feel like again. Sure, he and Markus are keeping in touch, but it’s not going to be anything like this. Where he could just reach over and take Markus’ hand if he wanted.

“Tomorrow evening,” Connor responds reluctantly. “We’re going to interview Carl, peruse the convention again some, and fly out by seven.” He clears his throat, pondering whether or not he actually wants to ask this next question, before the confidence Markus seems to generate for him kicks in and he keeps going. “Will you be there tomorrow?”

Markus nods almost instantly after the question seems to reach his ears. “Yeah, of course. Don’t leave without saying goodbye, okay?”

Connor feels his cheeks heat up a little there, before he glances over at Markus, and then back down at his lap. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

When Connor glances up again, he sees that Markus seems to take some relief in that statement, which brings a smile to his own lips. But then, Markus keeps talking and catches Connor off guard yet again.

“You’re really going to come to Virginia Beach one day, right?”

Connor doesn’t know if it’s in the way he’s saying the words or if it’s the words themselves, but something about that question creates a dull, longing sort of ache in the very pit of his stomach. Why does Markus sound like he’s going to miss Connor so much? He would have never dreamed in a million years that someone like Markus would grow so attached to him. Maybe Chloe has been on to something all this time…

That in mind, Connor offers Markus a genuine smile. “I’d really like to, yes.”

Why is Markus’ smile suddenly so sad? With how persistent Chloe is about it and how charismatic Markus is, Connor doesn’t have a doubt in his mind that they’re going to keep in touch. And if he does have his way, he’ll definitely be visiting Virginia Beach one day. Hell, maybe he can get Markus to come to Detroit at some point, too. This definitely isn’t the end for them. There are too many forces that keep bringing them together.

And yet, Markus is looking at Connor like _that_ , with those mismatched eyes almost glistening from the sharpness of his stare. That gaze holds Connor in a vicelike grip, and he can’t bring himself to look away. He’s so caught up in it that he doesn’t even realize they’re coming closer together until Markus is inches from him, with a hand on his face and his lips on Connor’s own.

Connor has wondered ever since he came to terms with his attraction to Markus how he might react to a first kiss from him. Most of his fantasies had faded quickly when he realized he would most likely short-circuit with nervousness, but right now, he can’t think of a time when he’s ever felt more at peace.

Markus is gentle, like a summer breeze, and Connor feels almost like the dandelion floating in the air, at its mercy. He thinks that maybe he’s shaking, but then again, his body is likely just buzzing from the sheer surprise of it all. He somehow manages to bring a hand up to cup the one Markus has resting on the side of his face, and the next thing he knows, he’s tipping his head into the kiss, letting his lips fall open just slightly as he does so.

Markus doesn’t push. He too leans into the kiss, but he makes little effort to deepen it. Connor can tell in his body language that he’s still trying to make sure that the bold move he’d just made is an alright one. Connor both doesn’t blame him and also appreciates it. So when Markus finally breaks off the kiss and their eyes meet, he can’t stop himself from smiling.

Markus is truly a good person.

“…I didn’t even get to tell you to kiss me first,” Connor manages around a soft laugh, before Markus joins him in doing so. He rests his forehead against Connor’s, and his eyes fall shut.

“I just wanted to give you another reason to come visit me,” he teases breathily.

Okay, Connor is definitely shaking. He’s nervous again, but it’s not unpleasantly so. He doesn’t feel the urge to slip into Fantasy Land or get up and leave. He frankly wants more.

Another laugh falls from his lips, just barely more audible than a sigh. “…Don’t make me wait until Virginia Beach,” he pleads in a rare act of bravery.

Connor doesn’t know what he’s expecting out of today, or from Markus. He can’t remember the last time he’s been romantically or sexually involved with anyone, but here he is, thinking how nice it might be to get both from Markus.

Markus’ eyes come open again, before he breaks out into yet another grin. “…Just to clarify, you’re giving me permission to kiss you again, right?”

Connor nods perhaps a bit too quickly. “Please do.”

And like that, they’re kissing once more. Connor can barely register the drawling of _The Hangover_ in the background, because he’s too focused on the way Markus feels all leaned up close to him, kissing him. He lets his legs fall open so that Markus can slide between them, and then he curls both arms around his shoulders, pulling him in closer.

Like a fanboy, Connor finds himself genuinely overcome with surprise over the fact that the person kissing him right now is Markus Manfred. It’s not because he’s famous, either. It’s got more to do with the fact that Markus is a genuinely good person who thinks with his heart and has always been eager to show Connor a good time. Connor hadn’t thought he’d luck out with a guy like that, and if he factors out the reality that they’re doomed to a long-distance relationship if any, he can think for a solid second that he’s got it made.

For now, though, he focuses on the way Markus’ tongue is teasing at his lower lip, and he opens his mouth into the feeling. He lets out something like a shaky sigh into what is quickly becoming a heated kiss, and Markus chuckles against his lips.

“You okay?” he questions, to which Connor nods and breaks off the kiss once more. He can feel the way his lips are a little puffy, and how his cheeks are likely bright red.

“I’m great, actually,” he responds around a laugh of his own.

“Can I keep going?” Markus asks, and he receives another nod in return.

“I want you to.”

Markus leans in without hesitation and kisses him again, there. Connor feels Markus’ hand find the hem of his shirt and hisses when those slightly chilly fingers find their way underneath and to the bare skin of his abdomen. A shiver follows, before he leans into the touch. He can feel the goosebumps forming on his arms, and it’s difficult to tell if it’s from anticipation or the cold of Markus’ hands.

Still, he wants to feel those hands on him, so he makes quick work of arching out of his shirt and casting it aside. After he does so, Markus’ hands roam freely, exploring the expanse of his chest. Connor is lean and skinny in frame. He’s never been crazy about it, but he’s surprisingly not embarrassed when he sees the way Markus is looking at him. Those hands are flat on his chest, and he seems to like what he sees.

For a moment, Connor stares at him while he does his thing, but then Markus catches him off guard by brushing his thumb over one of his nipples. The sensation ripples straight down Connor’s spine and to his groin, and he lets out something somewhere between a hiss and a whimper at the feeling. His cheeks flush following the sound, and he looks up to see Markus grinning almost playfully down at him.

“Does that feel nice?” He questions almost experimentally.

Connor hesitates only for a few seconds, before he nods his head in affirmation. “Yeah, I like it.”

He sees Markus pondering for a moment, before he pinches that nipple between his thumb and forefinger and squeezes just a little. Connor’s body lights up all over again, and this time, he whimpers a little more loudly. Markus, seeing that he’s getting somewhere, chooses that moment to wrap both arms around Connor’s frame and lean down, this time taking that nipple into his mouth.

Connor outright moans when he feels the way Markus sucks on his skin. He arches into the contact, before he realizes he wants more. His body is responding positively to the stimulation, in a way that he’s sure Markus will be able to feel relatively soon, and if he’s going to be taking his clothes off, so is Markus.

That in mind, he reaches around the other man’s frame and starts tugging at his shirt, pulling it up. Markus breaks off from what he’s doing long enough to shrug that shirt off, and then he’s leaning back in, this time suckling away at Connor’s collarbone.

And then, in an instant, he’s up and off of Connor. For a moment, Connor wonders what happened, but when he looks up and sees that Markus has a hand extended to him, he realizes that it’s just as simple as the fact that they’re not doing this on the couch. Nervousness resurfaces, but Connor takes that hand anyway, and the next thing he knows, he’s following Markus into the suite bedroom.

It’s downright unfair how good Markus looks even from behind. He’s definitely a lot more built than Connor, himself, and the way his pants fall onto his hips makes Connor a little weak with interest. He’s going to remember the sight well into his dreams, and he’s not going to be able to think straight without picturing it for probably months.

Markus rifles briefly around in a bag that’s placed atop the dresser for a moment, and comes back with a condom and a bottle of lube. Connor watches with another peak of nerves as he sets them on the bed, but Markus has his interest once more when he moves to stand in front of him. Connor shivers pleasantly into the way he cups his face in both hands and kisses him once more.

“I _really_ like you, Connor,” he confesses into the kiss, before he chuckles a little. “In case I didn’t make that fact obvious enough already.”

Connor laughs a little, himself, before he pulls back and looks into those stupidly gorgeous eyes. “I feel the same way. In fact, I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out a way to tell you all day. I’m sure it’s obvious at this point, but romance isn’t really my strong suit.”

Markus smiles there. “It doesn’t have to be. I hope you know that.”

Connor appreciates that. Markus is such a thoughtful person, and Connor couldn’t find it any more attractive even if he tried with everything he had. That in mind, he slides his arms around Markus’ waist and backs them up against the bed.

“I’ll keep that in mind. But right now, I need romance to be _your_ strong suit.”

Markus scoffs there, before he urges Connor down and moves to straddle him. “Lucky for you, I’m a hopeless romantic.”

Markus strikes Connor as one, actually. He’s not surprised at all to hear that comment. And it’s that weird, lighthearted sense of humor that draws Connor in even more. Those words help him to feel less like this is going to be their last night together and more like they’re getting to enjoy one another’s company.

Connor promised Chloe he would return to the hotel, but maybe, tonight belongs to him and Markus. He’ll be sure to contact her about it later, but right now, he’s a little busy. The way Markus is coaxing his pants open and pulling them down off his hips is kind of distracting, and so is how his kisses drift down along Connor’s torso. Connor is preoccupied by the sheer amount of attention Markus pays to him even as a lover, and he can’t stop himself from propping himself up on his elbows and watching as those kisses drift down to below his navel.

He doesn’t say a word when Markus exposes him. The arousal that came from everything up until now makes itself obvious, as Connor’s almost fully erect, and judging by the way Markus takes him into his hand and pumps him a little, he gets the feeling he likes what he sees. Even now, he’s still so careful and precise that Connor finds he’d believe Markus was an artist even if he hadn’t already known that much.

When Connor sees Markus going for the lube, he lowers himself back onto his back and opens his legs, exposing himself completely with a surprising amount of confidence. Markus has that strange effect on him, though. Connor feels insanely comfortable around him. It’s similar to how he feels around Chloe but also on a different level entirely. Markus is a very gentle soul without even trying. Like the sky that comes out after the storm.

He feels the pressure of a finger coaxing at his entrance and tries to relax, which is an achievement for someone like Connor. But as Markus’ finger pushes inside, he finds he doesn’t have much trouble adjusting. He lets his head fall back, his mouth coming open, as he sighs in response to the feeling.

But Markus is good at what he does. He’s patient and sweet about it, placing little kisses along Connor’s thighs and the base of his arousal while he works to prepare him. It’s such a pleasant distraction that before Connor knows it, there’s a second finger inside of him and Markus is actively pumping the digits. He twists his wrist a little, and Connor realizes it’s because he’s searching out that spot inside him.

It only takes a few moments for Markus to find it, and Connor’s mouth spills open in response to it. The pleasure is likely amplified because Connor doesn’t exactly go out and get laid very often, but it’s like shockwaves rushing straight down to the pit of his stomach. A moan dies off into a whimper, and before he knows it, he’s pushing down onto those fingers, aching for more.

He barely registers the passage of time between those fingers being inside him and Markus pulling them out to remove his own pants and roll a condom onto himself. His vision is almost blurry as he just manages to observe Markus squeezing a little more lube out onto his cock and settling between his legs.

But he _definitely_ notices the way Markus feels inside of him. He’s considerably bigger than two fingers, and it takes some time for Connor to adjust. Connor’s mouth hangs open, his hazy gaze fixed up on Markus, who is staring straight down at him as he pushes his way inside.

“…You okay?” He questions, and Connor can tell in the tone of his voice that he’s genuinely concerned.

It takes him a solid few seconds to respond, but he eventually manages a nod and a quivering, “yeah…go ahead and start moving.”

Markus pauses for nearly the same amount of time, and then he leans down for another kiss as his hips start up a very slow, careful pace.

Connor doesn’t realize it, but he has curled his arms around Markus’ shoulders and his legs around his waist. Each thrust draws a moan from his lips, and Connor finds he’s quickly growing to appreciate the way Markus fills him up with each forward rock of his hips. There’s a delicious sort of friction to it, and hearing the way Markus pants with each thrust makes it even better.

Connor is making Markus feel good for once. Markus has reassured and complimented and treated Connor time and time again, and right now, it feels so good to be the one doing something for him. Don’t get him wrong—Connor is very much enjoying the fact that he’s having sex with none other than Markus Manfred—but it’s nice to know that Markus is enjoying it too.

He gets confirmation of that fact when something like a moan spills from Markus’ lips. Connor can’t help but laugh softly in response to that sound, before he looks Markus in the eyes.

“You feel so good,” Markus explains through a tint of redness on his cheeks that brings out his freckles and makes Connor’s heart soar. “God, you feel good.” After, he drops down and buries his face in Connor’s neck as his pace picks up. He angles his hips, and sends Connor straight to Cloud Nine again. In just a matter of thrusts, he’s found Connor’s prostate once more, and they’re both moaning shamelessly.

The room falls silent, save for the occasional utterance of Markus’ name from Connor’s lips and the few breathy curse words that escape Markus as he moves. They’re just a mess of heavy breathing, thin sheens of sweat coating both their bodies, and soaring wave after soaring wave of pleasure.

It’s no surprise that Connor doesn’t last long. Digging his nails into Markus’ shoulder blades, his moans die into whimpers that pick up in volume, and his orgasm hits him in a series of waves, causing his body to clench around Markus in return.

And when Markus finishes as well, Connor thinks he could die happy at the sounds he makes in return. They’re both moving, meeting thrust after thrust together, until Markus goes completely still and works to catch his breath.

Connor is holding onto him as he pants, himself, and its only after a few seconds of afterglow that he realizes this time _he’s_ the one holding _Markus_. He cradles him in his arms, with one hand on the back of his head, and his heart leaps at the thought that he’s able to provide the man with some sort of comfort. He can’t stop himself from running his fingers along the short hair atop Markus’ head.

God, he doesn’t want to leave.

“Stay the night,” Markus suggests against the skin of Connor’s neck, his face still buried in his skin. “We still have a movie to finish, you know.”

Connor can’t help the big smile that stretches over his lips in response to that. He laughs a little, before he lets his hands fall to his sides and focuses his gaze up on the ceiling.

“We should probably shower, first.” He makes a mental note to text Chloe and find a vague way to explain everything, but focuses on Markus for now.

Markus’ response makes Connor’s heart do a backflip.

“You should see the bathtub. The jacuzzi works wonders on sore muscles.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a big thank you to all of you who have stuck with this even though it's taking a considerable amount of time to update each chapter! and to the lovely person who requested it. i love y'all! ; w;


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